Over Time, We Are Brothers
by Phoenix of the Air
Summary: Legolas and Eomer never went along well after their first meeting, but a friendship built surely and steadily will be the strongest. A story of how it came to be. This is not romance and should not be taken as such. Please Read and Review. :) Chapter 30 is up!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

_Set in the second year after the War of the Ring._

_City of the Elves,_

_Mirkwood._

_"You have an uncanny ability to find what you desire, father."_ Legolas commented wryly, his eyes twinkling in merriment. Thranduil smirked. Reclining in his chair, the Elven King placed his long legs on his desk and folded his hands one over the other. He looked up, smiling at his son.

_"The ability has benefits, boy. You should try to use them."_ Thranduil replied. Legolas snorted and walked over to his father's desk. Leaning against the edge, the elf folded his hands and gave his father a merry look.

The two elves stared at one another, wondering which one would dissolve to laughter first. Father and son shared a startling resemblance. They were both tall and fair-haired. They both had the same mischievous smile that alerted other to keep them away from anything used as jests. But certain differences still kept them apart.

_"I know the benefits of this ability father, but I have moralities! I do not, for one, try to seep into other people's mind to see what they are hiding!" _Legolas chided gently.

_"I must. I worry about you!"_ The king replied innocently, carefully ignoring the circulating chuckles of the audience in the room.

_"I thank you for your fatherly concern."_ Legolas replied with sarcasm. Chuckles turned to laughter as the advisors and guards enjoyed the verbal duel between their beloved royals. Father and son shared a grin. Such light banter had always been expected between the two royals, and even welcomed.

The War of the Ring was over. The Dark Lord Sauron was destroyed, and the free peoples were safe once more. The elves of Mirkwood fought for the freedom of their own homelands, in darkness and in doubt, doubled with the constant fear for the life of their impulsive and joyous prince. When the War ended, the elves awaited news of the Prince in growing anxiety, but when the Mirkwood Rangers brought news of their prince riding into the forest, and singing, the elves had breathed a sigh of relief. As for their King Thranduil, he was overjoyed at his son's return.

_"I thought you were lost to us. The darkness was just so strong…"_ Thranduil had murmured as pulled his son into an embrace, weapons and all.

_"The darkness has passed. You need not have worried."_ Legolas had murmured in reply, nuzzling his head deeper into his father's cloak, enjoying the warmth and the security. Back then, he could not help adding, "_Besides, you need someone to ruin your day, no?"_

Needless to say, Thranduil had threatened to make the Crown Prince scrub the kitchens for his cheek.

Once everything had settled down, Thranduil had delighted himself in pestering his son into telling him of his adventures (or misadventures, as the King privately called them). Sensing his father's intent, Legolas replied in short, vague explanation that virtually told Thranduil of nothing. The evasive tactics went on for two hours until finally, annoyed and perplexed, Thranduil resolved into mentally probing his son's minds for the answers he sought. But Legolas was personally trained by his father, and in no time he had promptly escorted and unceremoniously thrown his father out of his mind. And so the banter continued up to this point.

_"As I had said; you have an uncanny ability of finding what you desire."_ Legolas said. There was a hint of a challenge in the younger elf's voice, which Thranduil would gladly accept.

_"You dare challenge me, boy? Well, let the games begin!"_

Advisors and guards, having nothing better to do now that the War was over, looked on eagerly. Legolas cleared his mind for the onslaught, ignoring the cheers and shouts of encouragement.

They were just about to throw themselves into a mental duel when the doors of the throne room burst open and a battalion of Mirkwood Rangers marched in. Thranduil swung his legs off his desk and made his way to the middle of the room. The Rangers came to stand in front of him.

_"What brings the entire battalion of Rangers from East Mirkwood into my throne room?"_ Thranduil demanded. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched with approval as his son immediately become grave for the matters at hand.

_"Forgive us, Sire."_ The leader spoke up. _"A group of men entered the forest. We told them to return but they would not do so. We had asked them to put down their arms but they refused. A fight followed. No one was hurt," _the leader added hastily, feeling Legolas' death glare upon him. _"But there are few cuts and bruises. We have brought them here, just outside the city. They were asking for the Prince."_

_"Then they must be some form of emissary?"_ Legolas asked his voice dangerously quiet. The leader winced and bowed.

_"Forgive me, my lord. We have lived for far too long in shadow and doubt that it is hard to trust any outsiders."_ But Legolas waved the comment away.

_"No matter, let us go and see what they wanted, shall we?" _Legolas turned and made for the doors, his hands clasped behind his back. For a moment, Thranduil admired his son's quick forgiveness and was about to comment so when he noticed a glint in his son's eyes_. Blast_, Thranduil thought fleetingly, _he is not going to-he is!_

_"And the next time such an incident occurs, my friend, try not bringing the entire force of Southern Mirkwood into the throne room. It gets to stifling and hot in here. Shall we?"_

The abashed leader ducked his head and followed the prince outside, the Rangers close behind. The doors of the throne room closed behind them and Thranduil came over his surprise and laughed fondly.

_"That is why my son is very dear to me!"_

oOo

_"Here we are,"_ the leader commented as they reached the prisoners in the outskirts of the city. Legolas took one look of them and inwardly groaned. The men were dark-haired and fair-complexioned, marking all of them as Gondorians. What made him more sheepish on the behalf of his soldiers was the insignia of the White Tree on their green cloaks, which represented the Ithilien Rangers.

Legolas asked warily in Westron, "Are you Faramir's men?"

One of them, who seemed to be the leader, answered, "Aye, are you Legolas Greenleaf?"

"Aye," the elf confirmed. The man suddenly smiled and held up his tied hands. "Would you be so kind in releasing us? I have a message to deliver which could not be done in this- ah, position."

Legolas nodded and gestured at one of the guards to free the men. The prince made a mental note to send a word of apology to Aragorn and Faramir for the manhandling of their men. Once they were free, the leader got up and rubbed his chaffed wrists. Legolas gestured the man to walk with him, and the Gondorian complied.

Some distance ahead, the elf stopped. "Is Gondor under attack?" Legolas asked, worriedly. The man shook his head.

"Nay," the man responded. "I have a letter to deliver." The man produced a letter from underneath his cloak. " 'Tis from King Elessar. He said that perhaps you may be able to make him see reason."

"Make who see reason?" Legolas asked, surprised. The man smiled grimly, "I asked him the same but he said that the letter would explain."

Puzzled, the elf took the letter. What could be so important? Legolas wondered. Turning the envelope over, he saw the royal seal. His worry increased. But the writing was undoubtedly Aragorn's, which meant it was not official in one sense.

Breaking the seal, the elf pulled out the paper and ran over the contents. It was written in Sindarin to keep a level of secrecy. He started to read in a much slower pace.

_My friend,_

_I hope this letter finds you well .It has not been long since you had left Gondor, merely a year, I believe. Unfortunately, there had been a worry growing in my mind as of late._

_In truth, I had not given it much thought. But it was Lady Éowyn who had wished to write to you. But, seeing no way to reach you, she sought my help instead. So here in this letter, I write on her behalf._

_Éomer, who has become the King of Rohan recently, has been troubled. Of what reason, I do not know. Éomer has not been looking into his kingly duties. He has become distant and moody. The State Councils occur without his presence. He has shown no care of his kingdom, letting others do it for him. Éowyn believes it to be grief and her marriage to Faramir has aggravated it. Éomer may be overburdened and overwhelmed by the amount of work that needs to be done._

_I know that I am asking much, since you have recently been reunited with your people and your father must have expressed joy at your return. You had not been at friendly terms with Éomer (_you are not wrong there, Legolas thought)_ due to your first encounter, but perhaps you could help him where we have failed. I hope you would try._

_Regards,_

_Aragorn._

Legolas slowly folded the paper. His heart was heavy with sorrow. He had never been in step with Éomer because of their first meeting had left them in a stiff and awkward state. Legolas had not forgotten and Éomer had not forgiven. Despite their conflicts, the elf had admittedly felt saddened to see the young man, who had never dreamt of possessing the crown, become royalty upon the battlefield. He had at first, thought that Éomer would come to terms with his grief once his attention turned to Rohan's needs. But it seemed as if that the man had not overcome the pain of his losses. And Rohan suffers with its king.

It was one of the most predictable ways of a kingdom to fall. Legolas has seen it happen. A king wallowing in his grief would not look after its own kingdom. The lands will consequently fall into conceited, tyrannical fools who would reduce the people into nothing. There would be havoc and disaster everywhere. And if at that moment, an outside force would attack… Legolas closed his eyes. The kingdom would fall before the king could even save it.

Rohan was already weak and weakening. It seems from the way Aragorn had written the letter. But there was something else. Éomer had never been the man to be easily defeated. He was fierce but to succumb to grief… but then again grief always worked in strange ways. Some wish for revenge, others simply waste away their life and still others…

And then there was something else. Legolas' brow furrowed. The letter was vague, but it was understandably so. Such a letter, if intercepted would have informed any intruder of a weakened kingdom and hence Rohan would have been in havoc with intruders and unfriendly eyes. Aragorn was wise to write in Sindarin, and he was wise to discuss the details of the kingdom vaguely. What was more; Lady Éowyn may not have told Aragorn everything about Rohan. Éomer and Aragorn may be friends, but the ground reality was that they were kings and it would not do to share all the weaknesses of one kingdom with the other, much stronger one. That is one wise woman, Legolas thought grimly, and a brave one, too. What Éomer's reaction would be to this finely woven plan was one Legolas would prefer watching from a distance.

Yet this was not going to be an easy task. Like most elves, Legolas had always hesitated in giving advice. It is the most powerful thing to give, and it can either bring other to ruin or to benefit. And friends always ask for advice the most. _I hate being a friend, if anyone can take my meaning,_ Legolas thought miserably.

Decision made, Legolas looked around, trying to find someone to run his errands. He spotted a palace guard hovering nearby.

_"Go back to the palace and prepare food and supplies for my travel. I will be leaving shortly."_ Legolas said once he called the guard over.

_"If it pleases you, my lord, you will be telling your father for your departure, not I."_ The guard replied uneasily. He had no wish to be caught in between two powerful rocks like a helpless insect.

_"Do not worry. I will handle my father."_ Legolas said, laughing slightly. No one wanted to tell the King that his beloved son was leaving once again.

Turning back to the group of men who were now enjoying food and drinks, Legolas said to the leader, "I will be leaving tonight. There is something I must do. You may rest here till you are ready to travel." But the other man shook his head.

"Much as we are flattered by… elven hospitality," the elves who understood the gentle jibe, grinned sheepishly. "My men and I will travel with you, if it is all the same. We long to return to our woods."

Legolas nodded. "Very well, but my errands lie in Rohan. I will accompany you to the border of Gondor and from there, we will part ways."

"It shall be so."

"Be ready by nightfall, then." Legolas turned to go but halted when he suddenly remembered something.

"Forgive me, my friend, but I seem to be at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I do not know yours."

"Alfred, Sire. I am Lord Faramir's second-in-command." The man replied. Legolas winced inwardly. Yes, he should send an apology to Aragorn and Faramir.

"I will leave you to refresh yourselves."

_"And do not forget to bring them into the city."_ Legolas added to the elves nearby as he walked past them. The elves laughed merrily.

_"They are certainly not trees, Commander!"_ One of them cried, laughter in his voice. _"Ai! I doubt we would forget flesh and blood."_

_"Well, considering that you had forgotten to treat emissaries with hospitality, who was to know?"_ Legolas demanded.

_"We did treat them with hospitality."_ Another ranger protested. The ranger paused for effect before adding. _"Just not the right kind of 'hospitality'."_

Laughter rippled through the elves. Legolas shook his head and turned away. As he walked to the palace, he grinned with growing amusement as he wondered exactly what his father would say to his departure.

It would be a… refreshing experience.

oOo

_"Are you mad?"_ Thranduil demanded as he looked upon his son, garbed and armed for travel.

Legolas looked up at his father's glowering form and despite all that he had gone through in the War of the Ring, the sight still intimidated him. Talking to the Elven King into letting his son go into the Wild was as difficult as convincing a hobbit to give up his share of food. Legolas chuckled at the comparison.

_"Do not make light of this, boy!"_ Thranduil snarled_. "Scarcely have you been returned to us and now you are off to one of your wild adventures!"_

Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed the advisors glancing at each other worriedly. Legolas gave an inward sigh. He truly loved his people, but really, he could take care of himself.

_"Father, I must go. There are some things that I must look into."_ Legolas said. And some certain thick-headed king to knock some sense into, Legolas added silently.

_"You are forsaking you own kingdom for the sake of another!"_

_"I am not forsaking anyone, father. I must go; my friends are need of help."_

Thranduil sighed wearily and sank into his throne. _"You would go even if I do not give you the permission, would you not?"_ The King asked, not really expecting an answer. _"Go! But at least I can force some guards on you for an escort."_

_"But father-"_ Legolas protested. He hated travelling with an escort.

_"Do you want my permission or no? If not, I can throw you into the dungeons until you see clearer. Choose wisely!"_

_"I will do as you wish."_ Legolas said meekly.

_"Good."_

oOo

Thranduil had managed to call up a band of twelve Mirkwood Rangers to accompany Legolas, with Legolas himself being the thirteenth. Much to the younger elf's amusement, Thranduil purposely picked elves that were resilient against their prince's charms.

_"I am beginning to think you do not trust me, father."_ Legolas said laughingly when he saw the leader of the group was Fion. Fion was a broad-shouldered, dark-haired elf who had taught Legolas hunting and tracking. He was a no-nonsense elf who had also more than once kept a firm hand on Legolas' mischievous ways.

_"I don't."_ Thranduil replied frankly_. "But you had better be grateful. It could have been worse."_

_"It really could have been worse."_ Dorián, Legolas' best friend, warned. The prince smiled.

_"Aye, it could have been."_ Legolas said. Alfred walked over.

"My men and I are ready." The man said.

"So are we." Legolas confirmed. Turning around, Legolas raised his voice and shouted, _"Mount up! We ride!"_

The Mirkwood rangers mounted their steeds, and Legolas turned about to see tears in the King's eyes.

_"Oh, father."_ Legolas murmured, pulling his father into an embrace_. "I will return, do not worry."_

_"You do not know what it is like to hold your child after darkness until you have your own, Legolas."_ Thranduil murmured. _"And yet, here I stand, bidding my son farewell when he should be beside me."_

_"I will return and soon I will be causing your life a more miserable turn like always." _Legolas said, smiling as he pulled away. The Prince had the audacity to wink at his father. Thranduil was surprised into a laugh.

_"Come back when the seasons change, boy!" _Thranduil said.

Legolas mounted. Reeling his horse towards the gates, Legolas cried, _"Form up! Ride out!"_

Thranduil stood alone, watching his son lead the company out of the City. There was a murmur of approval through his people. Legolas was well-loved, and despite their concern over his welfare, they respected his choice to leave when he wanted. Thranduil closed his eyes and smiled.

_Yes, he loved his son indeed._

* * *

_Author's note:_

_According to LOTR archives, elves show a considerable love and affection for children. Hence, I always considered Thranduil and Legolas' relationship as a loving father-son one. _

_As for the elves, I tried to keep them merry as Tolkien had shown the elves of Mirkwood merry and joyous._

_Would appreciate a view. :)_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

They had ridden throughout the night, with galaxies of stars above them serving as their light. They must have presented a queer sight, Legolas thought with a grin as he rode harder. Thirteen elves and eleven men riding in earnest through the night, Legolas thought fleetingly, what a sight.

" 'Tis strange to ride in the night when it is usually used for sleeping." Alfred had called, bringing his horse beside the prince's.

"We love the night more, for it provides both beauty and light. I am sorry," Legolas had said belatedly. "I had not realized that you may not be used to our ways."

But the second-in-command would not hear of it. " 'Tis not a trouble for my men." Alfred had replied at once. "We will ride and we will ride swift." And the matter was at rest.

They had ridden through the night with only three brief stops to stretch their legs. It was a steady gallop, and the horses had strained for more, but none of the riders allowed them. Legolas saw no sense in running down the horses when there was no apparent urgency.

It was roughly an hour before dawn when Legolas called for a stop. The horses were tired, and the travellers soon set up in putting the horses more comfortable. The men were tired, Legolas knew, but the Ithilien Rangers were far too proud to admit it.

When the camp was set up, Legolas had arranged the Mirkwood Rangers to set up a watch. _"Do not let the men join you." _Legolas cautioned them. _"They are tired but they are proud to admit it. Make sure they rest, for we will need the strength for today's ride."_

As Legolas had predicted, the men had been a little insistent when the watch was decided, but the elves assured them that it was no problem for them. Elves, by nature, were more resilient and could take a larger amount of strength. Reluctantly, but gratefully, the men withdrew their claim and rested.

Much to the elves' amusement, the men slept deeply as soon as they laid to rest.

Looking about the campsite, Legolas saw the elves sitting at the edges, talking in low tones in their native tongue. He spotted Dorián sitting alone and walked over to him, where he sat, watching the sunrise.

_"It will be a beautiful morning." _Dorián said softly, not looking up to see the prince. Legolas smiled and sat down beside him. Legolas smiled at sat beside him.

_"Yet another reason for our victory in the War."_

_"Does the War trouble you?" _Dorián asked.

_"Only the cost at which it was bought."_

This time Dorián turned to regard his friend. _"You speak of the Rohirric King and his people." _It was not a question. Legolas nodded. Before they had left the Elven City, he had already told Dorián everything about Aragorn's letter.

_"I do not understand. What should I do there? I have not the slightest hint of the goings in Rohan. How will I advise her King?"_

Dorián thought it over before replying slowly. _"Truth be told, I find Aragorn's words too vague. It may be that the situation in Rohan may be quite different. What I believe is that you should wait until we have reached the Golden Hall. A situation can only be remedied when it is observed completely. I hope that makes sense." _Dorián finished awkwardly.

_ "No, it makes perfect sense." _Legolas said, nodding slowly. _"You have become wise, my friend."_

Dorián polished his fingernails on his tunic, _"Thank you. I believe I have."_

_"Perhaps, but I can still beat you in archery." _Legolas said, smiling.

Legolas crawled away, laughing when Dorián threw a hunting knife at him. _"Careful!" _Legolas said. _"Are you trying to kill your prince?"_

_"I admit it has become rather tempting." _Dorián replied, grinning as he retrieved his knife.

Legolas was about to tease when a wine skin dropped in front of him. Looking up, he gulped when he saw Fion towering over him.

_"If you are done making a nuisance of yourself, you might make yourself useful by helping me refill our water supply." _Fion said. _"And try not to blunder about creating havoc while you are at it." _Fion added, turning on his heel and expecting the prince to follow. Legolas sheepishly grabbed the wine skin. Dorián gave him a sympathetic glance and Legolas hurried to follow his former mentor.

He followed the veteran to a nearby stream. Legolas knelt by the bank and dipped his hand in. the water was refreshingly cold. Legolas cupped his hand and brought the water to his lips, enjoying the taste.

_"Do not drink before the others." _Fion murmured softly, indicating the wine skins. Legolas smiled before replying, _"Of course. I apologize."_

It was the same thing as it was when he was studying with Fion. Every day there was a new lesson and every day he had learnt something better. Legolas had enjoyed his apprenticeship, even if Fion was a little grim.

_"Why do you smile?"_ Legolas jerked back to the presence, where Fion regarded him curiously.

_"I was only remembering my apprenticeship, mentor. It was a good time."_

_"Really," _Fion asked dryly. _"Well I certainly seem to recall enjoying myself when I made you clean the stables, and wash my dishes and sweep my floor and…"_

_"I get the point." _Legolas interrupted, grinning. Those chores were something the prince had been relieved of leaving.

_"And use you as my target practice whenever you made a mistake in stealth and concealment." _Fion finished.

Legolas winced. He remembered that well. He had always been sloppy when it came to stealth. Finally frustrated beyond the point of no return, Fion sought to cure his habits by shooting an arrow at the younger elf whenever some fault was found in his stealth abilities.

_"The practice certainly worked," _Legolas admitted. He was surprised to hear Fion's low chuckle. _"It certainly did. What were you speaking to Dorián about?"_

The change in subject surprised Legolas. The prince frowned as he answered, _"Oh, he was advising me on what was the best course to take once we meet the King."_

_"And of course, Dorián is so old that he can give advice, now can he?" _Fion commented in criticism. _"Why, he is younger than you!" _Then Fion turned a sharp eye towards the elf. _"Make sure you do not create mischief in the horse lord's lands."_

_"Such little trust in your prince…" _Legolas drawled before he crept away.

Fion watched unblinkingly as his former apprentice made his way back to the camp. Legolas was the same as ever. The younger elf was impulsive, with a hint of mischief and a smile toying around his lips. Despite what many believed, Legolas was fiercely loyal and more than a little experienced when it came to campaigning and war.

And yet, the veteran had noticed something else in his former apprentice. It seemed as if the prince looked more… haunted. As if he was waiting for a call.

_Sea-longing,_ Fion thought fleetingly before shaking his head. _"What troubles have you gotten yourself into, boy?" _Fion asked, no one in particular. Gathering the wineskins in his hands, the veteran walked back to the camp.

The men woke up after six hours of refreshing sleep. Once they did awaken, they insisted on preparing the food and dismantling the campsite. With defeated smiles, the elves withdrew and let the men do it. The Mirkwood Rangers approved of course. Nothing was more terrible and tedious than travelling with companions who would not do their due share.

Once they had eaten and taken care of their camp, they remounted and set to travel again. This time, Legolas kept a more considerable pace, allowing the horses to reserve their energy for the last run of the journey.

It was a casual ride in the afternoon of the second day. Legolas leaned back on his horse, enjoying the steady change in the scenery. Dorián nudged him, gaining his attention. _"Look," _He murmured, indicating with his head behind him. _"Were it not for our uniforms, we may have been brethren of the same forest."_

Legolas turned to look. Behind him were the elves and men, mingling with one another and sharing amusing exchanges to pass the time. The Mirkwood Rangers wore clothes of darkest brown and a green so deep that it was almost black. It did not serve in camouflage in the Wild, where the green was much lighter, but in Mirkwood, the color was perfect. As was the standard Ranger Protocol, all the elves had bows and knives. The Ithilien Rangers, on the other hand, wore light green and brown colors of Ithilien. They had swords at their sides and longbows slung behind their backs.

All the elves in Legolas' escort knew Westron, which made up to more chatter among the riders. The Mirkwood and Ithilien Rangers exchanged tips and advice on field craft, archery, and stealth. In other occasions, they simply recounted tales of their respective homelands.

_"Aye, we are not so different." _Legolas replied.

Legolas smiled as he heard one of the elves narrate an amusing story of how one of their comrades (who was also in the travelling party) was trapped in a spider lair.

"You should have seen him hanging upside down, with his arms clamped to his sides as if he was tied in a blanket!" The elf declared.

"Mind you, I was not amused at the time." The comrade in question added. Laughter circulated through the riders as they pictured the amusing scene.

Legolas smile faded a little as he looked over towards his former mentor, who looked over his shoulder with a haunted look.

_"What is wrong?" _Legolas asked, watching his mentor look over his shoulder once more.

_"Perhaps I am simply imagining it," _Fion said slowly. _"But something is wrong. I can sense. Or perhaps, I am simply getting old."_

_"You, old?" _Legolas asked teasingly before growing more serious. _"But I would not take your words lightly. Let us be more cautious."_

They made camp sometime later, and keeping Fion's words in mind, Legolas placed four sentries on duty at any one time. The sentries shifted through the night, but there was no sign of trouble.

The air was cold in the morning. The last holds of winter were still there. Legolas strung his bow and checked to see if his knives were in place. Dropping into a crouch, the elf made his way out of the camp. He had decided to scout the area, maybe for clues for anything following them. The Dark Lord may have been defeated, but his former subjects still lurked, sometimes mounting a surprise attack at any unsuspecting people.

What was more, the elf wanted to practice his skills. To his belief, Legolas thought he had not played a great role in the War, serving only as a representative for his people. Not many knew his skills, and those who did, did not know them well.

Legolas knelt, his hand pressed on the moist soil. He enjoyed the feel. It was fascinating, to see something as dead as the earth to bring life to something as colorful and refreshing as trees and plants. _And how we depend upon the soil,_ Legolas thought.

It was the growl that took his attention.

Making sure he did not move a muscle, the elf looked at his left without turning his head. A large beast stood in a crouch, his lips pulled apart in a snarl. A warg, Legolas realized. The warg had matted brown fur, specked with gray and white. Its teeth were yellowed and dirty, obviously from its previous meal. And its eyes had pure hatred. Legolas momentarily forgot his place and said, _"You smell terrible."_

The warg was not amused and lunged.

Legolas quickly rolled to his side, sensing that the warg had landed where had had been moments ago. _I seem to have inherited my mother's humor in strange places, _Legolas thought miserably. Still crouching, he pulled up his bow. Notching an arrow onto the bowstring, the elf pulled back and let go.

The arrow hit the warg into its shoulder but it only screamed its pain and rage and charged. Knowing that his bow would be useless at close quarters, Legolas let it go and pulled out his knife.

Pain. It shot through his thigh as the warg clawed into his leg. Legolas drew in a sharp breath. Taking the opportunity of the closeness, Legolas stabbed the warg repeatedly.

_"Legolas!" _It was Fion. The veteran stood at a distance, the other elves kneeling as they pulled back their bows. A volley of arrows embedded itself into the warg. It roared in pain, but none of them were fatal wounds, the tangled fur being a protection. It was Alfred who led the charge of men, a naked sword in hand. With a cry, the second-in-command beheaded the warg.

Legolas pulled back with a grateful sigh. He vaguely heard the elves coming near.

_"Fool!" _Fion roared, dropping down on one knee as he scolded the Prince. _"What, in the confounded ends of the world, were you thinking? I had told you before my suspicions. It was foolish to go blundering about and creating a racket for that warg!"_

_"I only meant to practice my tracking and hunting skills." _Legolas explained, shifting slightly as blood welled from his wound.

_"Then you should have killed the warg in the first place!" _Came the tart reply.

Seeing his friend in pain, Dorián bent down and pressed the end of his cloak on the wound. Fion noticed the injury and shook his head. Pushing the elf roughly away, Fion snarled, _"And I will do that!"_

Dorián and Legolas exchanged glances and hid smiles. Fion, by nature, was a strict elf but much of his scolding was purely originated from fear over Legolas' welfare. So, the prince never took any of his former mentor's words to heart.

Alfred cleared his throat, making his presence known. The elves looked his away; they had forgotten he was still there. The second-in-command had schooled his face, possibly so that no one could see his amusement on how the prince was berated by another like teacher does to a naughty student.

"I see everything is in control here." He said smoothly. "I will take my leave."

"Wait," Fion interrupted. "Can you get your men to scout the surrounding area? Wargs travel in groups and it would be wise to check if there are any more nearby."

Alfred nodded his assent. Turning, the man shouted orders to the Ithilien Rangers who quickly, but silently melted away from the camp.

_"So they do know field craft." _One of the elves muttered as he handed a medical kit to Fion_._

_"Probably better than you." _Dorián quipped, bending down to hold Legolas still.

The elf who had spoken raised his hands in placatory manner and with a grin, left.

_"What I do not understand,"_ Legolas said, gritting his teeth and casting a glare at Fion. The veteran was not being gentle in his ministrations, but Fion purposely did not meet the eyes of his former apprentice. _"Is why did it attack me? I was still close to the camp and that should have been enough reason for the warg to stay away."_

_"Perhaps Legolas is too handsome for his own good." _Dorián said laughingly.

_"I knew I should have told your father to marry you off when he had the chance." _Fion muttered under his breath.

_"True, but I doubt I would have consented." _Legolas replied, hissing when Fion tightened the bandage.

_"Aye, there is that."_

Fion finished tying the bandage. _"Anyways, you had better hope this would heal before we enter Edoras. I do not think you will strike a formidable character in front of the King with an injured leg."_

A brief image flashed through Legolas' mind. He saw himself, limping up the steps of Meduseld to greet the King, announcing that he has come to help. Éomer would take one look of him and reply dryly that the rescuer would need rescuing.

The thought was so absurd that Legolas turned slightly to his side and pushed his face down as he exploded into helpless chuckles. Beside him, Fion looked annoyed. _"I tire of this," _the veteran declared, poking the elf at his side. _"Cease! Cease immediately!"_

The elves about them chuckled as well, Legolas' laughter being infectious. Just then, Alfred and his men returned. What the second-in-command thought of the scene, Fion did not dare to guess. His face schooled to be expressionless, Alfred said, "We scouted the area. There was no other wargs."

Fion frowned. "Strange," the elf murmured. "Fell beasts like the wargs always travel in groups. It makes hunting their prey much easier."

Legolas got up slowly. Dorián came forward to help but the Prince waved him away. "The defeat of the Dark Lord has made them crippled." Legolas said thoughtfully. "They will be scattered after the War, hunting for their own gains."

"And becoming ever weaker for attack." Alfred finished, understanding.

"Still," Fion said, slowly. "Let us leave immediately. I do not wish to stay around only to be food for a warg."

"Of course, we do not want to come to the end of our journey in pieces." Legolas said.

"Indeed, we do not." Fion said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. The veteran cast a meaningful glance at the Prince's bandaged leg. There was a ripple of laughter through the elves, but Alfred and his men managed to keep a straight face. Legolas raised an eyebrow.

"Feeling cocky, are we not? Let us ride!"

The next few days went without any form of incident. Due to fast elven healing, Legolas' leg did not give him much problem and at the sixth day, the wound now only a dull ache. Fion had given scathing remarks over the wound, but Legolas only grinned, letting the veteran complain to his heart's content.

All elves had admitted that, the reason for the easy journey was the lack of conflict between the elves and men. Long journeys meant that tempers were short but Legolas was impressed that the rangers of both forests were able to work with an unspoken understanding.

By the end of the seventh day, they stood at the borders of Gondor and Rohan. The Mirkwood Rangers dismounted, followed by Ithilien Rangers for their farewell. In the week's travel, they had developed an odd friendship based on understanding and cooperation.

"It was a good travel," Legolas said quietly to Alfred once they had dismounted.

"It was an easy travel." Alfred corrected, smiling at the prince, who smiled in return.

"Aye, I agree." Legolas answered. He turned, seeing the elves exchange words of farewell.

"One thing," Legolas interrupted. The men looked his way in inquiry. "I apologize for our behavior when you had entered our forest. Please extend my apologies to your King and Steward."

Alfred let out a bark of laughter, and the men exchanged amused grins. "Do not worry about us." The second-in-command said, clapping the Elven Prince on his shoulder. "We are made of sterner stuff! And we have long forgotten the incident. Truly," Alfred added at the sight of disbelief on Legolas' face. "We are not offended. Had we been living in the same suspicion, we would have done the same. Ithilien had not been kind to strangers during the War." Legolas nodded, accepting the words. The matter was at rest.

"It was an enjoyable experience." Legolas heard one of the elves say. The men smiled. "Do not worry," An Ithilien Ranger replied. "Perhaps one day, our paths will cross again, and maybe someday we will show you our woods."

The elves smiled. "We will enjoy that."

Farewells were awkward business, Legolas thought as Alfred ordered the men to mount. Alfred wheeled his horse towards the border, and shouted, "We ride! To home and country!" The men answered with their own shouts. Raising his hand in farewell, which Legolas quickly copied, Alfred set his horse into a gallop, and his men following close behind.

Legolas turned about and mounted his horse, the elves following his example. They turned their horses and for a moment just stood there.

Rohan stretched out before them, a rugged land with green grass as far as the eye could see, and only the rocks and uneven terrain as ornaments. Its beauty lay in the rough texture of the land. The sun was setting, casting red glow over the land, enhancing its beauty.

Éomer, Legolas thought achingly. This country is far more important than those who had passed.

With a heavy heart that did not know what to expect, Legolas guided his escort to enter Rohan or the Riddermark as it should be known, ready to help her king.

* * *

_Author's note: I understand that readers do not enjoy large time skips, (I. personally, do not). Also, I wanted to develop the elves a little before taking on with the story. In addition, in LOTR, we all know that Legolas settles in Ithilien and I wanted to develop the Ithilien Rangers for my another story._

_Kindly do inform if any mistake is spotted. _

_I do hope the jibes and jests are normal. -.-_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A thunder of hooves echoed across the plains as Legolas and his escort galloped through Rohan. Legolas only gave short rests in between. He had been eager to push the horses, wanting to reach Edoras as quickly as possible. He had no wish to come across any unfriendly men who wished them harm, and every passing moment felt wasted before reaching Rohan.

Sun rose as dawn broke out. Colors of pink, red and blue splashed across the sky. The birds of the plains were awakening, and small sounds of chirps broke into the silence.

_"I have said it before and I will say it again." _Dorián called over the sound of the hooves. _"It is a beautiful morning."_

_"Indeed," _another elf replied. _"And the beauty of the sunrise is unhindered in a land like this."_

It was true. Legolas looked about as he led his horse, avoiding the sharp rocks and preferring the grass. The sun could be seen rising, its light bathing the grass in gold.

They had stopped once the sun was fully raised. The elves had once offered to stop by a town and buy some supplies but Legolas had refused the offer. _"Nay," _Legolas had said firmly. _"I forbid it." _He had not explained further, but Fion did it for him, much to his relief. The veteran told the elves that they were few in number, and if any of the unfriendly kind would try to have, ah, advantage over one of them, they could do little to help. Once the elves knew the reason, they subsided.

Legolas was starting to grow tenser as they neared Edoras. He was worried for Éomer's reaction and what he could do once he saw Rohan's situation.

_"Stop thinking about it when there is nothing that can be done!" _Fion had snapped angrily once when they had stopped for a rest. _"Continue in this fashion any longer and you just might work up a headache- a feat yet unheard of in our kind!" _But Legolas knew that Fion had only been trying to help and that the veteran was also thinking of a solution.

It was a second day in Rohan and they were only a few hours away from Edoras. Legolas was tense as a bowstring and his escort understood his mood. The elves wisely checked their horses, leaving Fion with Legolas. The former mentor knew Legolas' moods. He understood how to start a conversation with the Prince.

_" 'Tis strange that we have not yet met any of the soldiers." _Fion commented casually, indicating the empty plains.

_"It was not so when we first came here." _Legolas replied bitterly. _"Éomer had not wasted any time in almost beheading me."_

A hand shot out, grabbing hold of Legolas' reins and pulling them. Surprised, Legolas' horse, Arod, jerked to a stop. _"What the- Fion! Your hand could have been injured!" _Legolas cried, half-shocked at the veteran's daring move and half-angry that he had risked. Fion, on the other hand, seemed unfazed at the scolding.

His escort had not been fast enough to stop their fast-moving horses just behind them. They maneuvered the horses around the two riders. Legolas dimly heard Dorián's angered protests but his eyes were only focused on Fion.

_"Are you not too quick to judge?" _Fion asked grimly. _"Tell me, if thy father banished thee under the pain of death, renounced thee in front of all who knew thee, would thy have been more welcoming than this king when he first met thee? What of those dark times? Your father once nearly put an arrow through an ally whom he once considered an enemy. Do not be so quick to judge others. They have done what was best in those times. The past is of no concern to the present. Make sure that ye remember that! And learn to help this young king without any grudges!"_

_"But that is where my problems lie. How will I help this kingdom? I know nothing of the ways of men."_

_"Then make sure ye learn their ways!" _Came Fion's brisk reply.

Legolas nodded several time slowly before letting a grin form. _"That is all?" _Legolas asked, his eyes glinting in mischief. _"There was a time when such scolding was accompanied by threats of spanking. I do believe that my former mentor is getting soft. Must be his old age…"_

Legolas dug his heels into his horse and shot off, his mentor following close behind. The veteran shouted threats at the fleeing prince, who neatly dodged the furious elf. Dorián and the others followed at a much slower pace, chuckling at the entertainment.

The game continued for the next few miles, and by that time they had neared the city.

The elves, who were laughing only a few moments ago, schooled their faces to polite grimness. They were, by nature, merry folk but only in the company they were comfortable in.

Legolas slowed his horse to a steady walk as they neared the gates, his escort doing the same. The wooden gates opened, letting them enter. Legolas wondered if he would be recognized. After all, he had been wearing the grey garments of Lothlorien when he came to Edoras the last time, but now he was wearing the black and green of Mirkwood with flowing sleeves and-

"Well, I'll be! Legolas!"

_I stand corrected, _Legolas thought wryly. Looking down at his side, he recognized Éothain walking beside his horse. The burly rider grinned at the eye contact. Reaching up, he took Legolas's reins from him and led the horse inside. Looking behind him, Legolas could see the Rohirric riders doing the same for the other elves. It was a symbol of hospitality the riders showed for the elves.

They stopped in the middle of the clearing. Legolas dismounted, and his feet had barely touched the ground when Éothain swept him up in a bear hug.

"Legolas!" Éothain roared happily, thumping the slim elf on his back in the process. " 'Tis good to see thee, my friend." Legolas winced at the impact.

"Éothain," Legolas said weakly as he tried to pull away. "Truly, the strength of the Rohirrim is not exaggerated."

Éothain understood the jibe and grinned as he released the elf. The Rider stepped away, not the least upset. Legolas straightened his tunic, which had gone askew. From the corner of his eye, he watched with amusement as Fion was subjected to the same treatment. Dorián, who had guessed what was coming, cleverly evaded any onslaught.

"Well, what are ye doing here? 'Tis had been long year. Why the sudden visit?" The burly Rider narrowed his eyes at the elf and understanding dawned on his face. "Ah, Lady Éowyn's work." Éothain muttered.

"She did what she thought was right." Legolas commented defensively.

"That she did, no doubt. But still, 'tis will not be easy. Éomer hasn't been like himself."

"How so?"

"He barely takes parts in our councils, leaving us to decide for ourselves. Of course, he rarely takes part in anything these days. Éomer spends most of his time in his rooms, drinking heavily and without restraint. We tried to speak sense to him, but it was in vain."

Legolas frowned at the news. This was much more serious than Legolas originally thought. For a well-run country it was necessary for the sovereign to take part in the affairs himself. If he does not, and lets his advisors do the work for him, there will be cracks in the government. Worse, corrupted fools would drink the country dry of its wealth and by the time there is help (if any), it would be too late.

"I must write to Lady Éowyn as soon as possible." Legolas murmured. Éothain's thick eyebrows snapped together in confusion. "Write to her? Why?"

It was Legolas' turn to look confused. "She is married to Lord Faramir, is she not? Surely she resides in Ithilien?"

"Surely not!" Éothain roared, smiling. He threw his heavy arm around the elf's slim shoulders and pulled him towards the steps with astounding strength. "Our White Lady is here with us! Come up and meet her!"

So poor Legolas half-walked and half-stumbled as he was dragged over the stairs by Éothain. He heard Dorián chuckling behind him. _Blasted elf, _Legolas thought fleetingly, stumbling when he lost his focus. _I will get him for this._ His mind was already making plans for revenge.

Legolas was grateful when they finally skidded to a halt on the platform. He gained his balance and straightened, his escort following in a more dignified manner. And they were not alone.

A group of ladies stood at the doors of Meduseld, two of whom held trays of cups full of drink. And one stood in front of the group of ladies.

She was fair, and tall with a proud stance. Her hair flowed freely like a sheet of gold, gleaming in the sunlight. She seemed fragile but cold, unreachable. She was dressed in green and gold, making her look more regal and powerful. Her name was Éowyn, daughter of Éomund. She had slain the Witch-King of Angmar.

And suddenly she smiled. Legolas was brought straight out of the past. He reminded himself that all of that is behind them, and Lady Éowyn was no longer cold and indifferent as she once was.

Éowyn took up a welcoming cup from a nearby lady and offered it to the Prince. "Hail, Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood." She said. Such a soft voice for one who seemed so cold.

Legolas accepted the cup. Other ladies brought forward more cups and greeted the elves.

"It is good to see thee, my lady." Legolas murmured, returning the cup.

"As it is to see thee." Lady Éowyn returned. "I trust your journey went well."

Legolas fleetingly remembered his encounter with the warg and Fion's constant cutting remarks over his wound and smiled. "As wonderful as a morning walk, my lady."

"That is good to know. With the War finished, it would be best that the travelling roads were no longer hindered by the enemy."

"But come," Lady Éowyn said finally, her skirts whirling about her as she turned for the door. "It would not do to leave our guests at the door while we can offer food and beds for rest inside."

As if the words were a sign, the ladies that had gathered dispersed, and left for the daily chores. Only the elves and Éothain followed the White Lady into the Golden Hall.

The hall showed some definite changes. The gilded pillars gleamed as if polished. A fire burned merrily in the center. The windows on the ceilings were open, letting in the fresh air and sunlight. The Golden all was well-named.

"This place looks better than I came here last." Legolas commented, observing the tapestries that hung at the sides. The first time Legolas had come to Edoras with his companions Aragorn, Gimli and Gandalf, the hall was too dark to make out the tapestries. Now, the light was more than enough, showing the fine details of the sceneries depicted on the rich cloth.

"It was time that Meduseld was restored to its former glory. There are still evidences of what we faced in the War," Éowyn added, looking disgusted. "Regardless, the hall should be renovated by coming winter."

A nod towards a nearby maid sent her scurrying to prepare one of the many tables for the guests. Bowls and other cutlery were laid out for a meal.

"Are you overseeing the renovation yourself?" Legolas asked.

"Indeed," Éowyn moved to reply. " 'Tis a hard work, but we are seeing results."

Legolas heard a polite cough from Dorián, indicating the presence of the elves behind him. Legolas hurried to say, "Let me introduce you to my escort." Indicating each elf, Legolas introduced them to the Lady, who greeted each graciously. Fion was the last to meet her, and as the veteran stepped back, his eyes met Legolas' and an understanding passed between them. Fion, had confirmed what Legolas had suspected. There was an air of contentment about the Lady, and she seemed more in tuned to life.

"It would seem that you will be expecting a new arrival in the coming winter, my lady." Legolas remarked. He noted in growing amusement when the Lady blushed. Then Éowyn held up her head in defiance and Legolas grinned. This was the White Lady indeed.

"My congratulations to you and Lord Faramir." Legolas continued, now softening.

"You may wish to take it easy from now on." Fion added kindly. Legolas kept his expression intact but inwardly, he smirked. The elves doted on children and soon, the Lady will come to realize, just how much.

"Unfortunately, I doubt it will be possible for me to 'take it easy'." Éowyn replied, her voice still gentle. "I am not the kind to sit idly when there is work to be done."

Éothain entered from one of the many doors opening into the hall. "I have just come from the kitchens informing them for a meal- what are those?" The Rider asked, surprised.

Legolas turned to see what the point of interest was. Two of his elves had excused themselves and left to retrieve the hawks that had accompanied them on the journey. They had come back, with the two birds of prey settled calmly on their heavily padded arms. Unlike their brethren that lived in the mountains, these hawks had silver feathers instead of golden.

"Many strange animals reside in our forest of which these hawks are one." Legolas explained. "They intelligent, and have become our allies in times of need. They are our friends, companions in battle and when we need to gather information on our enemies."

"We will suffer no harm to our hawks." Fion added. Éothain nodded slowly, understanding the warning in the veteran's tone. Hawks were precious to the Mirkwood Rangers, as horses were to the Rohirric Riders.

"They will be well-provided for in our hall." Éowyn assured smoothly. Just then, one of the hawks glided over to Legolas and perched on his left shoulder. The hawk crooned softly as it nibbled playfully on the Prince's braid.

Éowyn hissed in surprise. "Does it not hurt?" She asked, indicating the sharp talons that sunk into the elf's shoulder.

The elves smiled and pulled back their shirts, showing a heavy padding. There was more on the left shoulder than on the right. "We teach them to sit on our left shoulders only." Legolas explained before adding, "Although, they sometimes forget." Too well Legolas did remember the excruciating pain when a forgetful hawk had sunk its claws into the wrong shoulder. It had been like sharp needles forcing their way into his flesh.

By this time, the ladies from the kitchens had brought hot food and cool drinks for the elves. Occupying a nearby table, the elves sat eagerly to eat. It was an excellent stew, with warm bread that had a hard crust and a soft center. Water went well for their dried throats.

For a while, there was only silence. Éowyn was a good host. She made sure their bowls never emptied and did not disturb their meal. Instead, she sat contently nearby, her thoughts elsewhere.

Legolas wiped the bowl clean with a small piece of bread and popped the morsel into his mouth. He pushed the bowl away as he chewed. The other elves were done as well and the servants quickly removed the dishes.

"Do you wish for more?" Éowyn asked.

"Nay!" Legolas replied. "We have eaten to our fill, I believe."

"Then let us return to the matters at hand."

"I have to say," Legolas started thoughtfully. "I had not expected to see thee here, my lady."

"What! And leave you here alone with my brother?" Éowyn said, suddenly laughing. "That would have been far too cruel of me. My brother is not the easiest person to speak to. I wanted to help where I could."

"If truth be told," Éowyn said after a short period of silence. "I had not planned to stay here after my marriage. When I spoke to King Elesser, I decided to leave once the request for your aid was sent. I came here to see what I could do, but as I said, my brother is stubborn. He did not take kindly to my aid. I was about to leave Edoras to return to my husband when I realized what you had realized." Éowyn said, absently massaging her middle. "I decided to stay and wait here, not wanting to risk travelling. I know I can, for it is still early. But I had no wish to endanger my life or the one I have."

"As for my brother. I cannot understand him. He had always been moody but his anger flares up for no reason. I had more than one fight with him, for trivial reasons."

"Well, nothing can be done unless I speak to him." Legolas commented reasonably. "But tell me, is there anything that you or the council expects of him?"

"Mainly that he should take his duties as the king." Éowyn answered. "And that he should marry."

"Nay," Legolas said, gently but firmly. "No marriage until his sober and his kingdom is stable."

"But marriage may help him recover his grief!" Éowyn protested.

"Or it may aggravate it." Legolas said, rubbing his temples. Maybe someday, he just might work up a headache as Fion had always joked about. "Grief works in strange ways, my lady. It would only add to his burden when he is barely keeping his country intact. Besides," Legolas added. "I have no wish to send the poor bride into a breaking kingdom with a," Legolas stopped. He was going to say 'a lumbering, foolish, half-drunken oaf for a husband' but realized that those words could only be used for a friend. Aragorn would certainly not mind.

"A husband who has too much on his mind already." Legolas substituted instead. There, that sounded civilized.

Éowyn tilted her head, considering the elf's words. "I agree now that you have spoken as such." She replied slowly. "So what would you have us do?"

"I need to see Éomer." Legolas said, getting up on his feet. Éowyn got up as well.

"Éothain will take you to his chambers. But," The White Lady added. "You may not find him as you expected."

"Oh, that wouldn't be a problem, I assure you." Legolas replied smoothly.

Éowyn nodded towards Éothain, who came forward to guide the prince. Legolas turned to his companions, _"Fion, Bregon and Dorián will come with me." _Legolas said quietly. _"The rest of you should help where you can. The ladies seem to have big plans for Meduseld. It would be best to lend a hand."_

His companions nodded and got up for their respective tasks. Fion and Dorián stood by his side. Bregon, dark-haired and fair-skinned, stood by as well.

Legolas nodded towards Éothain. "Lead the way." The huge Rider gave a wide grin, and led them into the inner, more private regions of the Golden Hall.

Everywhere, there were carvings of horses and runes. The beauty of this ancient building lay in the intricate designs and the rich colors of the wall hangings and wood. Heads of horses were carved on every pillar, their eyes life-like.

Éothain led them to the door of the King's Chambers. The Rider turned to face Legolas and gave him a lopsided grin. He jerked his thumb at the door and said, "Here we are. Good luck to you."

Legolas winced. They both knew Éomer's temper. "I will need it." The elf replied. Éothain grinned and turned to leave.

"Lady Winflead is waiting at the end of the corridor. Call her if you need anything, yes?" Éothain said over his shoulder. Legolas did not reply, as Éothain had already left.

"Well, let us get this over and done with." Legolas murmured and pushed open the door.

As soon as the door opened, an unpleasant smell greeted them. Fion hastily stepped back_. "Blast!"_ The veteran exclaimed, wrinkling his nose in disgust_. "You had not mentioned this, Legolas!"_

Legolas had to agree. Taking a tentative step, the elf entered the rooms cautiously, followed closely by his comrades.

The bedroom was dark, with closed windows and an extinguished fireplace. A limp figure lay against the wall. Coming close, Legolas recognized the large frame and the muscled limbs.

_"Fool!"_ Legolas hissed, stepping forward_. "What has he done to himself?"_

_"I cannot tell if he is even breathing."_ Bregon added most unhelpfully.

Dorián stepped forward, prodding the king gingerly with his foot. Much to their relief, the king grunted and turned over.

_"Drunk,"_ Dorián announced. _"He is dead drunk."_

_"That is not wise for one so young."_ Fion commented, his voice laced with disapproval_. "His kingdom is falling to pieces and here he is drunk! I thought you had said this man was sharp-witted, Legolas."_

He was, so what had caused such a change? Legolas wondered. He had always remembered Éomer sober. He had not taken any drinks even in the celebrations of the battle of Helm's Deep, and even in the celebrations of the ending of war on the Fields of Cormellen.

Regardless, none of his questions will be answered if the king remained drunk and unconscious at his feet. Taking a glance around the room, Legolas pondered over his next action. As Fion had said, Legolas planned as the time passed. Suddenly coming up with an idea, the elf bounded to the main door. Opening it, the elf called, "Winflead? Winflead!"

The housekeeper appeared and Legolas flashed his most disarming smile. The lady regarded him suspiciously. "What is it, lad?"

"The king is in dire need of a bath. Would you be so kind as to put out a bath for him?"

Winflead nodded, some of her suspicion washing out of her. As she turned to leave, Legolas added, "Oh and Winflead? There is no need to heat the bath."

There was a twitch around her lips that showed she knew what he was asking, but she said, "As you wish, my lord."

When she left, Fion exclaimed, _"Boy, what do you think you are doing?"_

Legolas did not answer, but quickly rolled his sleeves back. Pulling his hair out his braids, the elf deftly re-braided them into one braid. He was about to pull out his knives when his eyes fell on Éomer's famed sword, Gúthwine. Legolas winced. Maybe he should keep the blades.

_"I suggest you three to do the same." _Legolas said casually.

Fion sighed as he went to work. _"When I am done with this mission, boy, I am leaving for the Undying Lands."_

_"Good, then I will be able to carry out my impulses in piece." _Legolas replied cheekily.

Fion glared at his former student. _"Just for that, I will not leave. But at the very least, open the windows."_

Legolas had to agree. Soon, the curtains were pulled back and the windows were open. The air was fresh and light, and the room was no longer dark. In the adjoin chamber, Legolas could hear the preparations of a bath. Legolas caught the sight of the empty bottle of wine and curled his lip in distaste. Glancing to the other rooms, he could see the King's study and smaller rooms joined with the King's bedchamber. Catching the sight of the stack of papers on the King's desk, Legolas made a mental note to take a look of them.

Just then, Lady Winflead peered into the room, "The bath is ready, my lord."

"Thank you, my lady. We can manage."

Dorián looked at the burly king, who was still blissfully unaware of what was going to happen. _"You are not really going to bathe him, are you?" _Dorián asked dubiously.

_"Nay," _Legolas replied, laughing. _"But I do plan to give him a shock. At least, let us take his shirt off."_

They did so, and the four elves took positions to carry the king to his awaiting bath.

_"Now, remember."_ Legolas said as he kept a firm grip on the king's shoulders. _"He has a fearsome temper-"_

_"The things you make me do as a friend." _Dorián interrupted.

_"He has a fearsome temper."_ Legolas repeated, his eyes glinting in merriment. _"So when you drop him, remember to run."_

They carried the king to the other room. The elves kept a firm hold on the king's body as it hovered over the cold water in the bathtub.

"_Remember to run."_ Legolas repeated.

Dorián, who could make a joke out of anything, said. "_If this does not go according to plan, we will meet again in the Undying Lands."_

Fion's lips twitched in amusement. _"Aye, after all we will be dying for a just cause!"_

"_Funny,"_ Legolas mumbled. _"It is my life in line, not thine."_

_"Remember to run,"_ Dorián reminded him, his shoulders shaking in mirth.

_"Careful," _Legolas warned._ "You are losing your grip!"_

_"I am not the one who would be in trouble if I did!"_ Dorián answered.

_"You are a treacherous lot to be called friends!"_ Legolas muttered under his breath.

_"I thought you already knew?"_ Fion prodded.

_"Just drop him!" _

_"As you wish!"_ The elves chorused and let go of their burden. The body fell into the bathtub with a splash, instantly creating a pool on the stone floor. The elves, surprisingly obedient to their prince's command, ran out of the door, leaving Legolas alone in the room.

_If I die, I hope Aragorn lives a miserable life, _Legolas thought fleetingly, turning back to the bathtub. He dropped his hand over the knife hidden in his boot as a thoroughly wet head emerged from the surface of the water.

* * *

_Author's note: _

_My sincerest apologies to all those who had been waiting so eagerly and patiently for the story update. From now, my updates will shift from weekly to monthly updates due to shortage of time and a busy schedule._

_This chapter and the following chapters are written and complete but are in need of a revision which takes time. Monthly updates are more easier for me to handle. But I do plan to update the entire story._

_While appreciate the follows and favourites, why not drop in a comment on how the story is going so far? It will give me a wonderful insight on what my readers like._

_Another note of apology to all those readers who had initially read the story when it had been published the first time. I believe I was only in the beginning chapters when I coincidently deleted it. My sincere apologies. Please continue to read and review as before._

_Replies to reviews:_

Astraea Concord : I am glad you noticed. Ithilien Rangers were special because Legolas canonically shifts to Ithilien and I wanted to portray acquittance from the beginning. :)

1monster2: I am glad. :) Please keep reviewing. I think you are one of the frequent reviewers and it helps to get some encouragement.

Nimirie Eryn Lasgaleneo: I am so sorry. This update was supposed to be there a week ago, but I was not satisfied with the chapter until recently. I will finish the story, hopefully. :)


	4. Chapter 4

_An important author's note:_

_One of the reviewers was kind enough to comment that the idea of Eomer behaving as "a drunken sot" was not appealing. I am glad somebody shared their views, so that I can explain a little, and clearing any misunderstanding that other readers may have. I would like to comment that personally, I have no love for intoxicants and I had debated over the idea before finally deeming it essential for the story. This, by any means, does not mean that I have no respect for Eomer. Eomer had always been one of my favourite characters in Lord of the rings, making it all the more difficult to entertain the idea of drinking. The only reason I used the idea was to develop a certain plot line._

_The storyline is roughly shown from the elves' perspective and Tolkien had depicted his elves as those who held high moral values and were virtuous. Hence, they had shown sharp dislike for Eomer's drinking problem naturally because of their own upbringing._

_Secondly, I would like to add that the burden of taking care of a state is a great one to bear, and I do hope the following chapters could shed some light._

_Also, I had already written this story, which is only in need of refinement and revision._

_Sincere thanks to the reviewer who brought up this point. :) *hats off*_

* * *

Chapter 4

Thranduil's son had done many foolish things, but the Elven King will be appalled to see that his son had done the worst this time. Teasing Éomer was like teasing a lion in its den; purely foolish- and suicidal.

The head emerged slowly, the golden hair tinged dark brown by the water. Golden-brown eyes looked about the room in confusion until it finally rested on him. The elf winced. Yes, this will definitely foolish.

"You," The king said, recognizing the elf.

"Morning, Éomer!" Legolas said cheerfully, not letting any of his inner turmoil show on his youthful face as he leant against the edge of the bathtub. He let go of his hidden knife in his boot and crossed his arms casually. There was no sense of danger as of yet, for Éomer was still blinking back his confusion and drink. Then Legolas tilted his head as if in thought. "Although I have to say, morning has long since passed. It is noon at the moment."

"How did you get here?" Éomer's voice was thick with sleep or perhaps, the after-effects of drink. Legolas did not know which and did not care. All he cared was that his neck came out in one piece- along with the rest of his body parts. In fact, it would be better if he make a run for it while he still had the time.

Legolas raised an eyebrow. "Why, on horses of course. Although when I came here, I was disappointed to see you fast asleep. It was a condition I was willing to change."

"You threw me into the bathtub?" Oh dear, time was quickly disappearing.

"You needed to be awoken as quickly as possible."

"You even dare to wake me up." Legolas knew he had been reckless this time.

"It was an itch I needed to scratch."

It was a wrong thing to say. For a man who was suffering from after-effects of the drink, Éomer moved incredibly fast. Before Legolas could move, Éomer was on to him. Legolas felt himself pushed back towards the table containing oils and bathing gear. The elf fell on his back on the table. Éomer's hand had clamped around Legolas' throat. Legolas' own hand flew to his throat, stopping the warrior's hand from tightening further. Swinging his leg upwards, Legolas landed a solid kick on the king's temple. _That is going to aggravate his headache, _Legolas thought fleetingly. Éomer flew sideways. The elf bounded out of the room straight into the King's bedchamber.

He did not have the time to turn around when Éomer grabbed him from the back and pushed him. Legolas quickly maneuvered himself so that he was sitting on his behind. As he turned, he could hear the sharp whistle of a blade withdrawn as Éomer sheathed Gúthwine. _Oh dear…_ Legolas thought.

"Now, Éomer let us not be so hasty…" But there was no way to reason with him.

With a guttural roar, the king launched himself at the elf.

Legolas dodged the blows from the sword, swinging back and forth smoothly as the sword whistled about him. The elf added a few smart blows here and there. The two went into the intricate duel and Éomer slowly pushed the elf into the King's Study.

But the Elven Prince was unused to the terrain. Without realizing it, Legolas had been trapped between the Éomer's charging and the desk. The back of his legs slammed against the edge of the wooden table, teetering him off balance. Legolas fell on his back. He was about to get up when he suddenly went still. The cold steel was pressed against his throat. He looked up to see Éomer sneering down at him.

"It was a bad idea to wake me up the way you did."

"Was it really?"

"One swipe and your head will be off your shoulders."

"One jab and your heart will have a new ornament."

Éomer looked down to see Legolas' thin blade an inch away from his bare chest. Looking at the elf's face, the young king could see a lazy, boyish smile. "Shall we call a truce?"

Éomer gave a bark of laughter, but his eyes still burned in fury.

"You have me at a disadvantage, master elf." Éomer pulled away. Legolas got up slowly, his knife still poised for any unexpected attack. But the young king went over to wear his armor was placed, and re-sheathed his sword. Legolas replaced his knife back into his boot, thankful that the first part of the argument was over.

"How did you get here?" Éomer asked, his back towards the elf. Legolas raised an eyebrow and replied, "As I had told you, on hors-"

"I know that!" Éomer snapped angrily, whipping about. "I meant why!"

"To help where it is required." Legolas answered quietly, with no trace of previous mirth. "In fact, I was called to come here, to give aid and counsel."

"Who would-" Éomer drew a shuddering breath. "Éowyn."

"She did what she thought was right." Legolas said. He seemed to be defending her a lot. Did the lady always put herself in the line of fire?

"I plan to have a word with her," Éomer growled, turning to leave. Legolas raised an eyebrow. "In that state of undress?" The elf asked pleasantly, gesturing towards the king's burly frame. Looking down, Éomer realized what Legolas meant. Grabbing the same shirt that Legolas and the elves had pulled off of him for the bath, the king shrugged it on and made to move for the door, stopping only when Legolas blocked the door.

"Half a moment, or so the hobbits would have said if they were here," Legolas commented. "Surely you do not plan to leave so? In plain words, my good king, you reek! A bath had been drawn for that purpose, though initially it was only meant to serve to awaken you. You may as well bathe when the water had been drawn."

"Surely you do not expect me to take a bath in that freezing water!" Éomer remarked in disbelief.

Legolas raised a brow at the outburst. "In fact, I do. And though I may be half your width, I am quite capable of bodily dragging you into the bathing chamber. I am only hindered by the titles we both possess and self-dignity." The Prince replied evenly. The king glared at the elf before disappearing into the adjoining room. Legolas, grinning and unable to help himself, added, "And make sure to have a change of clothes, yes?"

A growl answered him. Legolas hid a smile. There was a splash and the elf had a string of Rohirric curses, some of which, regrettably, Legolas could understand and others he was thankful he could not interpret. A few moments later, Éomer emerged, cleaner and wearing clean clothing. Legolas looked at him with a hint of surprise. "That was fast." He noted.

"You learn to take quick baths in cold water while being a soldier." Éomer replied gruffly, using a comb for his wet and tangled hair.

After he was somewhat presentable, the king left his rooms without bothering over the elf. Legolas sighed and followed, realizing his time in Rohan will be tiring one.

If Éomer suffered from the headache Legolas had given him (and the one given by the drinking), he did not show it. The King walked resolutely, not even turning to see if the elf was following. Legolas followed slowly.

He would have continued walking behind the King if it hadn't for the strange presence in the dark corridor. Legolas stopped and peered into the darkness, making out the fine detail of a cloaked figure. The elf grinned. _"Come now. Surely you did not think I would simply walk by without realize you are there?"_

Fion pulled off his hood as he emerged from the darkness and eyed his former apprentice. _"It seems you have not entirely forgotten your training."_

_"I haven't forgotten any of it." _Legolas retorted. _"Otherwise I would have walked on, now wouldn't i?"_

Fion waved his hand, letting the matter slide. Then he gestured at the corridor where the King had disappeared to.

_"I assume it went well." _Fion said.

_"Aye, I would say it did." _Legolas said, grinning. Fion raised an eyebrow and pointed towards the prince's throat. Legolas raised his hand over the mentioned area. He felt the area sore and slightly raised. He imagined the purple bands where Éomer had choked him.

_"We had a very emotional meeting." _Legolas quipped with amusement. _"The bruises are nothing that time would not mend."_

Fion shook his head in disbelief, _"You have a strange way of simplifying complicate matters. Come; let us see what this king is up to. Something tells me he needs a constant minder as you do." _The veteran gave the elf no chance to reply and walked away. Legolas smirked and followed the older elf.

They entered the room to find Éomer and Lady Éowyn arguing. Éothain was standing at a side, rubbing the back of his neck as he listened. The elves were there as well. Evidently, the room was being refurnished and Éowyn was using the elves' help, for the furniture was disturbed and some of the elves sat or leaned casually on the overturned couches and dissembled pieces of tables and bed. Most of Legolas' company looked uncomfortable for being caught into the siblings' argument.

"I do not a need of him being here." Legolas heard Éomer say.

"Brother, he is here only to help where it is needed." Éowyn replied, exasperated.

"He has no place here."

"You had better expect him to stay, for he is staying." Éowyn snapped angrily.

"So you have assigned a nursemaid for me." Éomer replied wryly. Behind him, he could hear a cry of utter outrage.

"I say! I am not here to be your nursemaid; I am here to be your nanny!"

Éothain guffawed, and Éowyn hid her smile behind her hand. The elves of Mirkwood were far too trained and remained expressionless. The young king whipped about and fixed the prince with a glare. The elf was obviously not laughing. Too obviously.

"I have no need of nannies."

"Well, it seems you have a bad experience of nannies, my friend." Legolas replied pleasantly. His face showed no humor, which was meant Legolas was laughing inside.

" 'Tis not the nanny that frightens me but their unwanted attention."

Legolas' eyes glinted, but not out of humor. The Elven Prince's patience was growing thin.

"Well, you need not worry; I am not going to sing you to sleep with a doll underneath your arm." Legolas snapped, annoyed. Then he sighed wearily. "Éomer, if you have no need of my help, I will not remain. I will not stay where I am not wanted."

Éomer opened his mouth immediately to say something, probably to banish the elf and his company out of his lands when Éothain wisely (or unwisely) spoke up, "Why not let the elves stay here awhile and we will see how it goes, eh?"

Éomer, aghast, was about to refuse when Éowyn quickly interrupted. "That is a wonderful idea, Éothain. That is a better course."

Éomer glared at both his sister and his friend. "Fine," Éomer snapped, his voice lined with annoyance. "But he is not welcome."

"Éomer, please…" The White Lady pleaded, but the young king paid her no attention and shouldered his way to the door. Éothain sighed and followed the king, casting an apologetic look at the others in the room.

_"He is such a bright sunray on the clear waters." _Dorián drawled.

_"Rather like Dorián," _Bregon quipped. The elf moved away quickly, putting as many people as he could between him and Dorián. The latter looked offended, _"Come now, do not compare me with a mere mortal."_

_"And yet, when we compare you with a mere mortal, the entire sentence is an explanation in itself." _Another elf quipped. Dorián cast the offender a disdainful glance and remarked, _"You know, my good friend, sarcasm is not the lowest form of wit. In fact, it is not a form of wit at all. And that," _Dorián added, snapping his fingers under the elf's nose. _"Is an explanation in itself."_

_"And this is why I never enjoyed travelling with an escort. I have to listen to their petty arguments for the rest of my stay here." _Legolas murmured to Fion as Dorián and the other bickered. Fion snorted in amusement. The veteran immediately became grim and nudged at the prince, nodding towards Éowyn. Looking at the lady, he saw her standing alone in the middle of the room, her arms protectively about her middle and obviously upset over her brother's blatant indifference towards her. The other elves had noticed as well, and quickly included her in their conversations, distracting her from her dark thoughts.

oOo

Somewhere close to the evening, the elves excused themselves and withdrew to the rooms that Éowyn had given them.

_"Well, what an eventful welcome to this new land." _Bregon commented, collapsing on one of the chairs. The other elves went about, inspecting their rooms and murmured an agreement to Bregon's remark.

_"As interesting as staying with dwarves, and just as refreshing," _Another added.

_"Hush, Arandur." _Legolas chided at the one who commented. _"We are welcome here, though the king does not perceive it such. It would be wise to keep thy critical remarks to thyself, for the Rohirrim are proud folk and not easily humored with such words. And courtesy demands us to be kind to our hosts, though they are not to us." _Arandur bowed his head at the censure, but took no offence. The elves had already accepted Legolas' command, knowing full well that beneath the mischief and the charm was a leader fully capable of making sound decisions.

_"For now you all are dismissed. Go, and refreshen yourselves. Stay close to Meduseld if you plan to go into the city. I do not wish for any of you to come to harm."_

The elves murmured their leave and withdrew to the adjoining bedchambers, leaving Legolas and Fion in the main chamber. The Elven Prince sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. This seemed to be complicated.

_"Do not worry overmuch." _Fion advised. _"You would see things sorting themselves out without your help."_

_"I hope." _Legolas replied fervently. Their conversation was interrupted by a timid knock on the door. Fion answered it, and made for the boys that had come to drop the elves' saddlebags in the room.

_"So what do you intend to do about the King?" _Fion asked, smiling in thanks when one of the stable boys left the last of their saddle bags into their rooms. The veteran knelt, taking his essentials from his bag, turning his back at the elf he was speaking to.

Legolas smiled grimly, looking out of the window.

_"Do remember when Aragorn was swallowed into depression? 'Tis the time when fair Lady Gilrean died."_

_"Aye, I do." _Fion commented puzzled. He twisted a little to regard his former apprentice. A slow grin formed on the veteran's face. _Surely you do not intend what I think you are planning to intend."_

_"In fact, I am." _Legolas confirmed, absently rubbing his arms. He had taken more of a beating than he originally thought. _"If I am correct, and if Éomer is anything like Aragorn was when the latter was younger, I expect the Rohirric to try and prove me wrong. That would mean he would do things just for the sake of annoying me."_

_"And you are never annoyed." _Fion murmured, grinning as he pulled out spare clothes from his saddle bag.

_"I plan to nip his mischief from the bud, so to speak." _Legolas said, turning towards the door. _"Nothing can be done till nightfall, I fear. I will be outside if any look for me."_

_"Shall I tell the others to know what to expect?" _Fion asked, referring to the elven company. Legolas waved a careless hand as he left.

_"Oh, if they know me, they will know what to expect."_

oOo

It was nighttime and a feast was called to welcome the elves. Éowyn had made sure there was plenty to eat. The food was served hot and delicious. The tables were arranged at the sides, letting those who wished to dance have some space in the middle of the hall. Music, though, could barely be heard over the loud chatter and laughter. The elves ate quietly, taking in the foreign sight. Food was different from their homes, where the woodland herbs gave the meat a certain uniform taste. Here in the Riddermark, the food was spicy and each bite brought a burst of flavors. Much to Legolas' and Fion's amusement, none of the elves (including themselves) would admit it, but the food was too spicy for their liking.

_"He is not going to forgive you for this,"_ Fion commented as he watched the king drink yet another mug of ale.

_"None of them do, at least initially."_ Legolas replied, pushing back his plate as he watched the commotion before him. _"Besides,"_ he added, _"I find this technique the most effective."_

_"Aye, it is!"_ Dorian cried, laughing. "_I remember my own experience when you had used it on me!"_

_"One that I will not hesitate in repeating again, my friend,"_ Legolas said, giving a pointed look to the second serving of the intoxicating drink. Dorian drew back his hand sheepishly. Legolas shook his head and took a sip of cool water. He was not going anywhere near the other drinks till he had accomplished what he had in his mind. It would not be easy, though he knew it would be something he would gain a satisfaction of. Sighing, the elf pushed back his chair as he stood. Seeing their prince stand, the other elves followed suit.

_"I take it we are going with the plan_," Legolas heard Bregon comment.

_"Have you ever seen your prince not going with it?"_ Fion asked. Bregon grinned, understanding the answer. Legolas smiled as well. Surely he was not getting too predictable?

Éothain was making his way towards the Elven Prince. "Should you not do something about that, nanny?" Éothain asked absently, pointing at the more or less drunken king. Behind him, he could hear his comrades' chuckle at the prince's nickname.

"I am," Legolas replied, grumbling. "I am waiting for him to go dead drunk like before and then I will make him regret it."

Éothain gave a confused look before suddenly grinning, "Aragorn did say something about you being ruthless to your men. Is there any way my men and I can help?"

"Will not your king dislike your interference?" Fion asked from behind him.

"Aye," Éothain grinned, "Which makes it even more humiliating than ever before. I guarantee that he will think twice before coming near any barrel of ale after this one."

Satisfied, Legolas pointed his thumb behind him, "Ask them if you want to know what we are planning."

Dorián, who could never resist, added, "And do not worry for suffering censure at the hands of the king. Rest assured that Legolas is always willing to bear the blame." Laughter rippled through the Elven Rangers.

_"Funny," _Legolas mumbled. "_You forget I am fully capable to plan tricks on all of you. I am sure there are many cold and wet dungeons back in our forest."_

"For now," Legolas added in Westron. "I am outside to breathe the fresh air rather than the stench of wine and smoke here. Call me when he is done."

With that elf stalked outside, leaving the elves to converse with Éothain and his Riders.

Éomer had passed out in the middle of the night. Legolas came back inside to help Éothain carry the king to his chambers. The prince lowered the warrior to the bed, and stepped back to study him.

At last, Éothain said, "Do not be hard on him, Legolas. He has seen many hardships when he was young and it has taken a toll on him."

"Perhaps, and it is understandable. But that does not mean one should drown himself in alcohol. The memories will not vanish, nor does one solve his problems from the cup." Legolas pinched the bridge of his nose, wearily. Éothain remained silent for some time before speaking quietly, "Forgive me, but I believe you elves are far too quick to judge. It was never his intent to become fond of wine and ale. I doubt he realizes it. It just… happened." There was a sharp edge in the Rider's tone, however hard he tried to hide it. Legolas clasped the burly man's shoulder.

"Forgive me," Legolas said softly. "It was never our intent to sound so judging. I spoke more out of shock. I have been brought up to dislike excess of wine, and other evils that haunt the race of Men. We never see it among our own kind, and it is our upbringing that speaks for us."

"He can be a great king." Éothain murmured.

"He will be a great king." Legolas corrected, and then stopped, before adding, "Once I am done with him."

Éothain let out a bark of laughter. Legolas slowly smiled. He had been with the Rohirrim long enough to understand he had been forgiven. This brought up his next question, which he asked hesitantly.

"May I ask what exactly the situation in the Mark is? A day has passed and we are still walking in circles."

Éothain pointed towards the king's study. "You will find your answers there, I believe. However, it will make a long reading."

"Do not worry; I plan to stay here for a while. No," Legolas said, laughing when Éothain narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously. "I will not prank him, at least while he is asleep!" The man gave a small nod.

"Very well, I only ask you not to think less of us when you have finished reading."

Before Legolas could say anything, the man left.

Checking the king once last time to see if he was truly asleep, the elf made his way towards the study. There on the King's table were the stacks of papers and reports that needed Éomer's attention. Legolas sat down on the lofty chair and glared at the stacks. Resigned, Legolas gave a sigh and reached forward towards the nearest pile. Settling back in his chair for more comfort, the elf prepared for a long night.

oOo

The elf put down the report he had been reading, his heart heavy with sorrow and worry. It had been two hours since he had picked up the first batch of reports. He was not done yet, for there were many other reports that had yet been unread. It was not a light reading. Each report bore grimmer news than the one before it.

Legolas did not even know where to start. Each problem seemed grimmer than the next. What was worse, each problem was tightly interwoven with the other problems. Rohan, with her fertile lands, depended heavily on her fields and crops. But there was no grain and that meant that there will be no harvest this year. The storage from the previous year was almost finished. The treasury was empty, because it was spent in the war. There was no way to buy grain. The fields were destroyed. They had to be ploughed and salvaged. Villages had been burned, especially those situated in the outer regions of the Westemnet. Those villages faced the Wrath of Isengard, where Saruman had unleashed his armies of wild men, the Dunlendings.

The only relief that Rohan had was that no grouped attacks came from either the orcs or the Dunlendings, which meant that Rohan's éoreds can be used in helping Rohan rebuild her villages, towns and cities. But the villages did not have many men. The women and children made up the majority of population now that many of the men had fallen during the War of the Ring.

_How did Éomer keep his country from falling apart? _Legolas wondered, shifting absently through the numerous reports from various lords throughout the kingdom. It was an admirable feat, particularly because none of the Gondorians, elves and dwarves realized Rohan's weakened state when Éomer had welcomed them on Theoden's funeral. Slowly, Legolas' regard for the young king increased. And yet the elf could not help but feel a little sad. It was understandable how Éomer sought solace in the habit that led made him unconscious at the moment. But what was more, why did Aragorn not help?

Legolas' grim thoughts were interrupted when he heard a low groan from the bedchamber. Legolas furrowed his brow. Éomer could not be up, at least not after how much he had taken for drink. Getting up, the elf made his way to the bedchamber.

The fire in the fireplace casted a fiery red glow about the room. Éomer was asleep, but he was not sleeping quietly. The king tossed and turned, muttering something in Rohirric. Éomer was speaking too fast for the elf to understand, but Legolas knew it was not a good dream. He heard Éowyn's name, blood, war, Theodred.

Legolas hovered at the edge of the bed, trying to decide what to do next. If this had been either Aragorn or Gimli, Legolas would have had seeped into their minds and shifted through their memories, pushing down the bitter ones and bringing their happier ones in front of them. He would have eased their sleep for them as he had done so many times when they had been pursuing the orcs that had imprisoned Merry and Pippin. But Éomer was a different case. Legolas had not known him very well, and the prince was reluctant to enter a mind he was not welcome to.

After a moment's hesitation, the elf came to a decision. He did not sift through the king's mind but pressed his own good memories on the king. Legolas shared all the good times with the king. He showed him the time when he raced with his father in the woods, the quiet singing with his fellow Rangers at night, the nightly feasts in palace where there was food and laughter. Slowly, Éomer's breathing eased and the king went into happier dreams. Legolas pulled away, carefully taking his memories with him.

Legolas smiled down at the sleeping form of the king, who was now sleeping well. Legolas sighed and rubbed his temples. Then he turned and went for the door. Just before he left, the elf turned and looked at bed.

"Sleep well, golden warrior."

"Tomorrow I will not be so merciful."

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_Author's note:_

_Replies to reviews:_

Nimirie Eryn Lasgaleneo: Haha, I am glad you are enjoying it. It is a good thing you review. It keeps me informed on how the story is going. I was afraid the joking was getting out of hand, but I am glad the humor is still understandable. -.-

1monster2: Hehe, yeah well. I hadn't planned to delete it, it just sort of happened and I realized it too late. The sad part was that I had not backup. So most of the story was rewritten from memory. You may have noticed some of the newer parts- that was where my memory failed me. :P

kyoiku kanji: Interesting that you should mention that. I had enjoyed your review. It was a critical one and allowed me to view (and correct) the personalities of my potrayal of characters. As far as Legolas is concerned, I had potrayed him more along the book than the one in the movie. Legolas explained in the book was more merry, but you would notice that he also contains wisdom and quick (although impulsive) thinking. I hope it makes sense, I am terrible when I try to explain my character :s


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's note:_

_It is really sweet to know that I have somewhere to 17 followers but why not post a review? Anonymous reviews are accepted and since this is the first time a posting a long story on Lord of the Ring Archives, I am sure there are tips and advice I need. :)_

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Chapter 5

The sun had fully risen in the sky, banishing the stars and the darkness of the previous night. The people were slowly wakening, some of which had already started their daily chores. Many of them were women, while the others were men, who were changing the guard duty and tending to the horses in the stables. Already he could hear a mild chatter as people stopped to chat with others. He could see the guards who had night patrol returning to the homes for a good sleep.

Legolas sat, perched on one of the roofs of the houses, with his legs bent and his head resting on his knees. One the Mirkwood hawks, a female by the name of Silverclaw, sat on his left shoulder. She was crooning and nibbling tenderly on strands of hair.

"_If you are hungry, you can go and hunt. I will not keep you."_ Legolas said absently, watching the people go about their business. Silverclaw looked up and turned one beady eye to glare at him. _"Don't look at me like that,"_ Legolas said, _"Only my father looks at me like that. I know you are angry at me for not writing to my father yet, but it has barely been a day since I came here."_ The hawk gave a shrill cry. _"Alright, alright,"_ Legolas said, sighing_. "I will write to my father as soon as possible, but not now. Satisfied?"_ Silverclaw looked satisfied, and took flight. Legolas watched her leave the city, probably to go hunt. The elf shook his head. The hawk had been a gift from Thranduil to him, and ever since then Silverclaw had always sided with his father at every matter. Traitor, the elf concluded with a smile.

Deciding that it was time, Legolas dropped down from the roof and made his way up the steps of Meduseld. Flashing a quick smile to the door-wardens, Legolas stepped inside.

Seeing Legolas enter the Golden Hall, Lady Winflead sent one of the maids running to prepare some breakfast for the king. "And a bath." Legolas called after the girl. "A heated one." He added hastily when he felt the housekeeper's stern eyes on him.

He made his way to the lodgings Éowyn had given him. Meduseld was going through many changes and many of the guestrooms were being aired and redecorated. The elves had to share the rooms. These rooms were not small at all. It was more of a suite than simple rooms. Three bedchambers were adjoined together by passageways, with an attached bathing room. The rooms were luxurious, with spread rugs and fur-lined blankets to chase away the cold at night.

Swinging open the heavy door, he was not surprised to see his friends awake.

"_About time," _Dorián commented impatiently. _"We were wondering where you had run off to."_

"_Patience is the key, my good friend."_ Legolas commented, smiling. He sat down on one of the chairs facing the fireplace, where a fire burned merrily. He leant back and closed his eyes, enjoying the peace.

"_When do we plan to start?" _Bregon asked.

"_Patience is the key, my good friend." _Legolas repeated, not bothering to open his eyes.

There was a momentary silence, before Arandur finally asked, _"Do we even plan to go along or are we simply sitting here?"_

"_Patience is the key, my good friend."_

"_If I had a coin for every time I heard that." _Dorián muttered under his breath.

"_Which is saying something," _Bregon commented.

Legolas grinned. Why are people so impatient? It only tempted him.

There was some peace and quiet before he heard another impatient voice, _"How about now?"_

Legolas opened his eyes in surprise. Fion was pacing the floor restlessly. The younger elf stared at his former mentor in disbelief, _"Did you just ask me when we will start?"_

"_Indeed I have. This wait is starting to wear my patience!" _Fion replied, his voice sounding gruff as he turned on the corner to pace back.

"_But- but- you are supposed to keep me out of mischief! My father specially chose you all to make sure there were no pranks and jests on this trip." _Legolas looked around him in disbelief. All the elves wore guilty expressions, most of them impatient to start. _"You __all__ want to play this trick?"_

"_Is it truly so hard to believe?"_

"_Knowing that it is coming from my father's elite group, yes!"_

"_Come now, what King Thranduil does not know will not hurt him." _Fion said reasonably. Then the veteran winced. Fion had close friendship with the King, and he knew what Thranduil's wrath was like. _"At least," _Fion amended. _"It will not hurt him much."_

"_And besides, such a trick usually only works on Men. And it has been so long…" _Dorián trailed off, hoping Legolas would understand. The Prince only smiled. Elves of Mirkwood, by nature, were more playful and fun-loving than other elves. Besides, it was a good break from the monotonous duties and responsibilities of Rangers.

"_Now," _Legolas said, deciding it was time. Winflead must have had enough time to draw the bath and prepare the food by now.

The elves nodded, some of them retiring to the other rooms. They returned with harps and flutes. After making some adjustments the elves started to play a soft tune. Legolas stayed a while, listening to the soft tunes. Unlike the music of elves of Lothlorien and of Rivendell, the music of Mirkwood was vivid and deep and mysterious. Just like Mirkwood itself.

Knowing that the elves will be doing their part, Legolas had left just after his escort started to sing. Closing the door behind him, he came face to face with Lady Winflead, who bore a large tray full of food.

"The bath is ready as well." The housekeeper said, holding out the tray for the elf to take. Legolas smiled his thanks and took the tray.

"That will not help, but I thank you nevertheless." Legolas said, nodding towards the cup of steaming tea that Winflead had placed for the King.

" 'Tis best you leave the rest to me." Legolas said, smiling at the housekeeper. Winflead narrowed her eyes in suspicion before finally curtsying stiffly. She left without so much as a cordial word. Legolas bit his lip to keep back his laughter. Evidently, Winflead had too much experience with mischief to be swayed by his charms.

His hands were occupied by the tray, so he used his foot to kick the King's door open. Without any qualms, the prince entered without bothering to announce his entry.

The room was dark. The fire had gone out in the night and Legolas had closed the windows when he left the last night. A still figure lay on the bed, covered completely with many layers.

"Morning, my good king!" Legolas called, his voice louder than usual. To his satisfaction, the king moved about angrily under the covers. Oh, he had never had this much fun since Aragorn's time.

Legolas was in a particularly good mood when he realized that his expectation became true. The doors in Meduseld were thick and heavy. However, the wood was porous, and did not hinder sound. Earlier, he had asked Éowyn to let them have the rooms closest to that of Éomer's. She gave him the rooms in the same corridor and directly opposite to the King's chambers.

And he could hear the elves' singing.

The elf placed the tray on the table facing the fireplace. The utensils rattled; their sound unnaturally loud in the quiet room. Éomer gave a muffled groan. Legolas smiled. So the king really did drink too much last night. Especially the fact that Éomer hadn't been drinking ale as he thought.

"So, how did your night go?" Legolas asked pleasantly. There was no answer, and Legolas did not expect one.

Legolas came to sit on the edge of the bed. Éomer vaguely felt the mattress sink under Legolas' weight.

"I do not understand," Éomer said, his voice muffled under the covers. "I never had these worse side-effects from drinking ale."

"That is because you were not drinking ale, my good friend." Legolas said pleasantly. Éomer pulled down his covers just enough to let his eyes see Legolas. Seeing the elf's smirk gave Éomer a sudden urge to wipe it off his face.

"Then what was I drinking?"

"Elvish Wine, my friend." Legolas replied immediately, thoroughly enjoying himself. Maybe he was becoming, what did Lord Elrond call it? Sadism was the word.

"Let me refresh your memory, good king. Sometime in the night, when you were thoroughly gone far enough, you had called for something stronger. So, deciding to give you what you wanted, you were given Elvish Wine."

The elf tilted his head as if in thought. " 'Tis a strange concoction. If drunk in small amounts, the liquid can awaken your senses and make you more alert, banishing sleep and weariness. It is harmless in small quantities for both Elves and Men. Too much of it, however, can cause drunkenness."

"Now, mind you," Legolas said, laughing softly. "Elves do get drunk, but we do not lose our senses or have memory lapses. We certainly do not have lack of conduct. Instead, we fall into a deep sleep, full of pleasant dreams. The next day is terrible, however, for our limbs become slower than usual. Wine of any type, can be fatal and poisonous in varying amounts, depending upon the type of wine."

"For men, however, the experience is entirely different. Too much of the wine causes worse side-effects than any of the Mannish liquors. It causes severe headache, accompanied by unpleasant dreams in sleep. I had once used such a method on Aragorn, though I am sure he will never admit it. The result was extraordinary." Legolas got up and moved towards the window. Éomer's eyes followed him. "Poor Aragorn barely was able to handle almost anything. He also showed a queasy stomach and," Legolas added, "A sensitivity to both light and sound."

Legolas words only took a second to sink in. Unfortunately, a second was all that the Elven Prince needed. "Legolas, don't-"

Éomer's plea came too late. Legolas threw open the windows, letting the sunlight burst in. the king's eyes hurt terribly in the light, which seemed to glaringly white. With a pained groan, the king burrowed deeper into the covers. Still, there was no refuge. He could still see the light under his blankets.

What was more; the elves seemed to have the rooms opposite to his. Éomer could hear their singing as well, that only seemed to be growing louder. Some may call it beautiful and haunting, but at the moment Éomer would call it downright annoying.

Then he heard another type of singing. The words were Rohirric. With some horror, Éomer's stuffy mind was able to recognize Éothain's voice.

Legolas was more than just a little amused. Fate seemed to be on his side that morning, for the king's chambers were located just opposite to one of the many stables. Looking outside, Legolas watched as Éothain led his men to one of the more rowdy songs. From what little Legolas could understand, Legolas (again) was thankful that his Rohirric vocabulary was limited. He really did not want to know the rest of the song.

"Well, now." He heard Legolas comment, laughter plain in his voice. "I do believe Éothain is in a good mood today."

Glancing back at the figure on the bed that seemed to be trying to bury itself into the bed, Legolas felt a surge of pity. Aragorn had not fared any better when the Elvish Wine had taken to him.

Besides, all Legolas wanted to do was make Éomer regret his drinking, not make the poor king desire to behead himself.

He let the singing go on for some time before finally gesturing Éothain to stop. The rider noticed the signal and immediately went silent, his men falling quiet along with him. He had already told the elves when to cease and sure enough, they stopped after their last song finished.

As Gimli once commented, nothing is more annoying than listening to an elf sing.

"Come now," Legolas said tenderly, walking over to the bed and rubbing the king's blanket-covered shoulder. "The effects of the Elven Wine will only seem worse if you lay in the bed. It vanishes more quickly if you would be up and about your normal duties. 'Tis the most unpleasant form of recovery, I fear, but I assure you will recover much more quickly."

Éomer pulled back his cover just a little, so that his sleep-clouded eyes looked into Legolas' clear blue ones.

"Up, up, Master Éomer!" Legolas commented, patting the king in encouragement. "I assure you, you will recover quickly if your mind is busied in some activity." The king sighed. Knowing that the elf would not give up until he would leave the bed, he pushed back the covers.

Glaring at the elf (who was suspiciously not smiling), Éomer said. "You are enjoying this."

"Aye, I am!"

Éomer groaned softly as he straightened himself. Forcing his eyes open, the Rohirric resolutely struggled to sit up. Legolas got up and stepped back as the man swung his legs over the side of the bed "Never again…" Éomer groaned.

"Music to my ears," Legolas commented flippantly, smiling at his own wit. Éomer did not bother to comment.

It was willpower that helped Éomer to get up and take a bath. Legolas smiled softly once Éomer had left. He then started the fire, letting it burn in the fireplace.

Legolas waited patiently, sitting on a rug in front of the fire. He heard slow sounds of water splashing and smiled in sympathy. Elves could hold liquor much more gracefully than men, for elves only sink into pleasant dreams and recover from it. Men, on the other hand, suffered worse side-effects, ranging from headaches and sensitivity to light and sound, vomiting, unpleasant dreams- and Elven Wine produced the worse possible state for those conditions for Men. Still, Legolas thought with a rueful smile, the trick always worked.

On a more serious note, Legolas toyed with the idea on how to confront Éomer over the state of his kingdom. Legolas, although trained as both as a soldier and as a prince, never had a way of words. He preferred straightforward ways and not careful tactics in coaxing someone to speak of their problems.

His thoughts were brought to a stop when Éomer re-entered the room.

"How do you feel?" The elf asked.

"I have been better." The King replied, sitting on the rug opposite to the elf. Legolas gestured towards the large tray, "Let us break our fast first."

They shared the food together. Due to the shortage of grain, most of the food consisted of meat, but neither of them minded. Éomer drank the tea Lady Winflead had put aside for him. It had grown cold, but was still drinkable.

They fell into an awkward silence once they had eaten. Standing up, Legolas placed the tray on one of the smaller tables beside the fire. The elf wondered how to go about the next part of his plan. Not being able to come up with a solution, the elf finally decided to take the less troublesome course- even if it would be a little painful.

Legolas brought the reports from the King's Study and placed it with a thump in front of Éomer. Sitting back down, Legolas looked at the king unflinchingly. "Explain," the elf said.

Éomer glared at the elf. "You had no right to go through the reports of my kingdom."

"The same way you had no right to neglect your kingdom because of your grief!"

"I have not neglected my kingdom because of my grief!"

"Really!" Legolas cried in annoyance. Éomer winced at the sound. Having some amount of sympathy (though Legolas did not know why), the elf brought down his voice just a little. "Then tell me, Éomer, since when do you even- never mind!" the elf growled. "I have had just about enough of your childish activities."

"Childish acti-"Éomer sputtered.

"You heard right!" Legolas snapped. "Now behave and do as I say, for I will not even try to dignify your behavior with coaxing words!"

"Or what?" Éomer challenged.

"Or nothing," Legolas replied easily. "But I do believe Éothain and his men would happily be able to express their disappointment most… splendidly."

"They wouldn't dare. I am their king!"

A pig-headed one, Legolas fumed. He was just about to make a cutting remark when he noticed something stranger in Éomer's behavior.

His shoulders were sagged. Legolas knew that sign. He had seen it too many times in his own father, when Thranduil had been holding his kingdom together with his fingertips. His father used to say that nothing is worse for a king than to be hopeless. Hopelessness can destroy a king's ambition, his hopes and his dreams for his land.

Éomer was not wallowing in grief. He was simply weighed down by care.

Everything started to make sense. It was his kingdom's problems that made him bitter. It was his kingdom's failing economy that made him afraid. In his fear, he became defensive. In his defensiveness, he pushed back the people who cared for him, and in the end, he sought peace in a way that Éomer would not have even dreamt of using had he been a mere Third Marshal.

"You fool," Legolas murmured. Éomer caught the words and his eyes flashed. The only reason he bit back his retort was when he looked into the elf's eyes. There was no malice there. There was not even pity and sympathy as he expected to find. There was understanding.

"Why did you not ask for help?" Legolas asked. Éomer stiffened but soon relaxed, the rebellion nature swiftly leaving him. It was enough. The time had come for Éomer to lose this bitter character he had adopted. There was no need anymore. The elf would understand.

"I would not disappoint my kingdom." Éomer said. Legolas looked up in his surprise. There was no bitterness in the words, and he did not hear the moodiness in the king's voice as he heard yesterday. The voice sounded more youthful and deep. It sounded more like… Éomer, from the time when he had been the Third Marshal, during the War.

"Looking for advice of running a country when you do not have any experience in the field is not disappointing your kingdom, Éomer." Legolas explained. "It is wisdom."

"Would you have done so in my place?"

"Nay, I wouldn't." Legolas admitted immediately. For the first time since the elven company had arrived, Legolas witnessed Éomer's smile.

"Then why are you advising me as such?"

"It has something to do with my Elven bloodline, I believe. I am supposed to sound wise and powerful."

"You are hardly that."

"I knew you had my sense of humor." Legolas replied flippantly. _What in Middle-Earth? _Legolas thought, puzzled. _How can we speak so normally after such a heated argument?_

But the elf realized that, had it not for their fateful misunderstanding in their first meeting, and their pride that had stopped each from apologizing, the two could have been close friends. Perhaps fate had brought them together to allow friendship to blossom.

"Now, if we are speaking in civilized tones, can we please get back to the reports?" Legolas asked, sounding polite for the first time since his arrival in Meduseld.

"Well, since you have asked so politely, how can I refuse?" Éomer winced, his headache becoming more pronounced.

"Excellent."

However, Legolas insisted that they work on the bed. He knew Éomer would not be able to handle sitting, and decided the bed would keep the king more comfortable, especially with his headache. They shifted the reports, maps, inkpots (much to housekeeper's disapproval) and quills to their modified workplace. Once settled, Legolas slowly guided the king to the task.

At noon, Legolas called for a halt. They had only sorted the problems but that was great progress. Legolas had guided Éomer to arrange the problems according to their urgency. Pretty soon, the network of problems all amounted to one thing; gold.

If they had gold in the treasury, they could buy grain. Buying grain would mean farming which meant a harvest. And harvest meant food for the coming season. Then came the rebuilding of the towns; Rohan had an extraordinarily large amount of population.

And they had very little time. Farming always started in summer, and in Rohan, summer was fast in coming. They needed gold by that time and also grain to have harvest in time and this meant that they had three to four months at the most.

At noon, though, Éomer's condition was really put to the test. Deciding not to push it, Legolas told the king to get some rest. He had been remarkable; the wine intake had not hindered Éomer as Legolas had expected at first. Perhaps Éomer's muscular frame and impressive size had played an important role. Once they had cleared the bed of all the documents and reports, Éomer had fallen instantly asleep, leaving the elf to his thoughts.

Legolas leaned back and massaged his eyes. Now he knew why his father tired after handling the affairs of the Woodland Realm. This work was… tedious.

What was more; the Elven Prince could not help but feel that he was forgetting something. It was surely something that he needed to do, but he just could not remember. Ah well, Legolas thought finally. It will come in time.

Glancing at the bed, Legolas felt some amount of pride for the Rohirric King. Éomer was difficult to persuade, but he was quick to learn and he worked with a certain amount of alertness. That meant that whatever Éomer thought of himself, the young king was still fit to rule. And he was no idiot; there was intelligence in his eyes. Rohan can do with an intelligent king.

His musings were cut short when he heard the strangest sound; laughter. It came from outside. Puzzled, Legolas left the king's rooms, making great care to close the door softly behind him. What he did not tell Éomer was that Elvish Wine left the drinker unnaturally alert once the headache subsided. The Rohirric King would not have a peaceful rest for a while.

He walked outside, following the laughter and the chatter till he came into the front area of Meduseld. A group of women sat upon the platform, with what seemed like baskets of cloth and sewing equipment. They seemed immersed in the task, talking contentedly as their hands deftly sewed the garments with ease of practice. Much to his astonishment, Lady Éowyn was sitting there too, with a cloth on her lap and needle and thread in her hand.

"You sew?" Legolas asked in bewilderment as he neared the White Lady. Éowyn looked up at the towering figure of the elf. She laughed in amusement. "Why, yes. Is it truly so hard to believe?" She asked in turn, smiling at the elf's surprise.

"When I know that you are shield maiden, yes!"

Éowyn gestured towards her sewing, "In truth, I know little of sewing, for I devoted my time to arts of combat and taking care of the Meduseld household. But I can do mending. The others, however, can actually make something out of cloth."

Legolas looked around at the other ladies, who were bent on the task. Sure enough, Éowyn seemed to be the only one mending, while others seemed to be working on an entirely different project.

"What are you doing?" he asked. One of the women looked up and held up her piece of cloth. "We are making blankets, my lord. 'tis for the coming winter. Many of our towns and villages have been affected in the War and we try to help where we can."

"They must know that we are here to support them and that together we will be able to see through these hard times, as one nation."

Legolas watched in bafflement as the women's needles moved with a somewhat hypnotic movement.

"That does not seem so enjoyable. I would never have the patience for such work." Legolas remarked.

The ladies laughed in amusement. "That is why women take sewing and look after the household while men take the heavier activities." One of them said.

"Aye, I appreciate the women's part." Legolas replied.

"Besides, our work is easier when our children are looked after." Another said, gesturing towards the lower ground.

Legolas looked to where the ladies indicated and caught sight of his escort in the midst of children. Nodding at the ladies politely, Legolas climbed down the steps of Meduseld.

The elves had definitely kept themselves busy while Legolas was with the King. Dorián was playing with a group of boys, chasing them around the wells. Legolas chuckled quietly as he watched his best friend catch the youngest and tickle him. Over at another side, some of the elves were helping them check on the stables. There had been a thunderstorm some weeks before the elves had come, and lightning had caused fire in the stables. The elves were helping renovating it. Bregon and Fion sat in a circle of children of all ages, where the former was telling one of their many tales of adventure.

Legolas approached the crowd carefully, making sure that none of the children were disturbed as he came close to his former mentor. He quietly slid by Fion and sat down. The veteran did not take his eyes off Bregon, who was using dramatic gestures to emphasize his tale.

"_You certainly are a fine lot!" _Legolas hissed angrily, sitting down beside Fion. The veteran was unaffected by Legolas' outburst. _"Here I am, suffering the king's wrath and my escort is enjoying a sunny day."_

"_For your information, we __had__ been working before we came out here. The West Wing was in dire need for airing and we had to move the furniture around. But the children soon got restless sometime near the noon and we decided to take some time for a rest."_

Legolas looked down and saw the child in his former mentor's arms. The girl was singing softly in her own tongue, and tracing the embroidery on Fion's tunic.

"_You look good with a child in your lap." _Legolas teased. Fion grunted. One of the younger girls had not been intimidated by elves and had scrambled into Fion's arms once she was sure he posed no danger. Now the youngling was content, her wild golden hair splayed against Fion's arms and his black hair twirling between her small fingers.

"_I keep telling you that you would look stunning if you marry, though you seem least interested." _Fion replied. _"But since you would not listen to marriage, then let us continue to a more serious topic. How went your meeting with the king?"_

"_Well, I believe it was the worry of the State that had- how on Middle-Earth?" _Legolas exclaimed, looking down at Fion.

Fion looked down to see the young girl who had been playing with his braids, fast asleep. She held his black braids in her fists. The veteran winced as she tugged at his hair in her sleep.

"_That was fast," _Fion commented. _"Come, let us drop her off to her mother and we will continue our conversation in our rooms."_

Legolas and Fion slipped away from the crowd and made their way up the steps of Meduseld. One of the ladies looked up from her sewing and recognized her daughter in the elf's arms. She quickly excused herself from Éowyn's company, and led the elves inside to one of the nurseries just at the side of the Main Hall.

Once the child was safely nestled in warm fur-lined covers, the elves excused themselves and went to their rooms.

As soon as they entered the rooms, Fion grabbed a change of clothing from the saddlebags and made his way behind the changing screen.

"_So, tell me," _Fion called over the screen. _"How was your meeting with the King?"_

Legolas turned to give the elf some privacy. _"As wonderful as it could be expected. There are many problems, one as great to the other. And yet I know that if we solve one problem, the others will become as insignificant."_

"_It is often the way," _Fion agreed, pulling on a shirt. _"And yet most problems only seem difficult if the mind perceives it as such. What I do not understand, though, is why Aragorn had not helped Rohan when he could. Gondor and Rohan are allies after all."_

That sparked Legolas' memory. So that was what he had forgotten!

"_I thank you for reminding me," _Legolas said stiffly. _"I had completely forgotten."_

Fion came out from behind the screen, tightening his belt as he did so. He cast his former apprentice a puzzled look. Legolas, on the other hand, paid the other no notice as he randomly packed a few essentials for the journey.

"_Legolas, what are you doing?" _Fion asked, half worried as he followed the Elven Prince, watching him gather two saddlebags.

"_Packing."_ Came the short reply.

"_I can see that."_ There was a mixture of humor and exasperation in the older elf's voice. _"May I ask why and where to?"_

"_To Gondor!" _Legolas snapped, walking towards the door. _"To knock some sense into a King who happens to call himself Aragorn!" _Legolas and his impulses, Fion thought fleetingly, his lips twitching in amusement. He shook his head as he followed the younger elf out of the room.

They walked out of Meduseld. The White Lady and her company were not there and must have retreated inside when the wind became too harsh. Legolas entered the stables, situated at the left of Meduseld. As he entered, he scowled at one of the timid and young stable hands, sending him scurrying outside with a yelp. Fion, who had just entered, chuckled as the boy fled.

"_You certainly have a way with children." _Fion commented wryly.

"_I pride myself in it." _Legolas replied as he saddled his horse. Arod, his faithful friend who had accompanied him in the War and in this journey, looked up questionably when he felt the weight of the saddle on his back.

Fion knew it would be useless to plead Legolas to stay, but he tried nevertheless. _"Will you not at least think your journey through?" _

"_Nay! And besides, was it not you who advised me to trust my instincts?" _

"_I do regret my words." _Fion replied. _"You seem to have an ability to twist them for your own benefit."_

Legolas checked his gear once more before leading Arod out of the stables. Once outside, Legolas mounted his horse and looked down at his former mentor. _"Will you look after the others while I am gone?" _He asked.

"_Do not flatter yourself." _The veteran replied gruffly. _"I was the one who taught you responsibility after all. Just make sure you do not kill Aragorn. It would not do to cause our Evenstar grief."_

"_Oh, I will not damage him… permanently." _That was the note of farewell. Legolas wheeled his horse towards the gates and took off at a gallop.

Fion smirked. Legolas was most unpleasant when annoyed. Aragorn had better have an explanation ready.

* * *

_Author's note:_

_And here I believe was where I had been originally before I had accidently deleted my story. The next chapters will be new for both my newer readers and the older ones. :)_

_So Legolas is going to Gondor... following his impulses, to the good grief of his former mentor._

_So, I hope Eomer is slowing settling into his character. And I know it seemed quite the opposite before. The next few chapters will explain more :)_

_And why do I suddenly find the time to update when I say that I don't have the time in real life. This happens to me every single time!_

_Those who review get my sister-in-law's brownies!_

_Replies to reviews:_

_cailinbeag: lol, to tell you the truth, i think it was your review that finally gave me the push that i need. Yes, the previous chapters have been checked for grammar mistakes. And you were right; there were loads of them! Regarding Faramir's absence, I hope the next chapters will do the explaining_

_Regarding, the elves' status... that will be explained in the following chapters, but way later. :P_

_And as for the drinking in Hobbit (yes, it was the butler), I am fully aware, lol. But in my previous note, I said 'excess of wine' and I hope this chapter had shed somewhat light on it. So yes, all in all, your review really gave me the push I needed. :D_

_Sandy-wmd: lol, I am glad. Yes, that is the main key of the story. :)_

_1monster2: I am glad you enjoyed it. :D And yes, I do have a back-up this time!_

_emi: lol, please do follow, and I hope you enjoy it! Do keep reviewing. ;)_


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

It was a four days ride to Minas Tirith, provided that Legolas take short breaks in between. Arod was used to such a hard gallop, but the elf still rested the worthy beast whenever he could. The journey was uneventful, for there was no orc or beast in sight. To the lively prince of Mirkwood, the journey was far too boring; there was no one to cause mischief with.

However, the journey did not do anything to cool Legolas' temper, nor did his annoyance with the Gondorian king vanish.

Father will be so proud of me, Legolas thought with a grin as he led his horse to a nearby stream for a drink. Four days and I have stayed out of trouble. It was a magnificent feat for one like him.

To his relief, on the fourth day Legolas had reached the gates of the White City. He gave a polite nod to the guards standing by the broken gate; the designs for the new ones were still in progress. Legolas was pleasantly surprised to see that most of the plans where underway; the marble ruins and debris were removed and many of the buildings were being restored. The security had not yet lessened though. Guards in silver and black still marched in the circles of the city, as if anticipating an attack from the now defeated Mordor. It will be a while before the men will finally accept that there is no longer a threat from the East, but there were still the horrors of war to overcome.

Handing over his horse to a groom, the elf gave some general instructions on his horse before letting the groom take over. Arod left quietly, too exhausted to notice his surroundings. If Legolas was to leave again and immediately, he will not be able to ride Arod until he fully regained his strength. Aragorn will have to provide him with a horse.

Giving a sigh (he seems to have been doing it a lot since he entered the Realms of Men), the elf eyed the slopes that led to the Citadel warily. Making a mental note to ask Gimli if there was some sort of mechanism that could transport a person from the ground to the higher regions without him lifting a finger, Legolas gave a sigh and started to climb. Oh, yes, Aragorn will never hear the end of this one.

By the time Legolas had reached the Citadel, he had comforted himself by imagining every sort of torture for the one who had designed Minas Tirith in the rising circles. He was an elf, which meant that he did not tire easily, but the climbing was tedious and time consuming, especially when he had to go all the way up. Much to his dismay, Aragorn stood at the entrance of the Citadel, smiling smugly.

"You knew?" the elf asked in disbelief. "You knew I had arrived and you made me climb all these steps? What kind of a host are you?"

"I feel a certain satisfaction to see you toil, my friend. For reasons I cannot explain, it is most entertaining."

"I can. I believe they call it sadism."

"A trait I seem to share with you."

"I? Never!"

"Really? What have you been up to in Rohan then?"

"Who, me? I am an innocent!"

"Something tells me that Éomer would not agree to that statement."

"He hardly agrees with anything at the moment, but more on that later. Are you not going to invite me in?"

"Why, so you could wreak havoc in my household?"

"For the love of our Evenstar!" Legolas cried, exasperated. "Invite me into your house, mortal! I am hungry, in dire need of a bath and I need a change of clothing!"

The King wrinkled his nose ungracefully. "Since you said it..."

Aragorn led the elf inside, taking a route through the throne room into the more private regions of the Citadel. These were the private rooms of the King, along with those of the Steward and many unused guest rooms.

"Things seem to have improved around here." The elf observed once Aragorn showed him a guest room prepared for him. It was a spacious room, with lush carpets on the marble floor and finely tailored curtains.

"Arwen's work," the King admitted. "She has been taking care of the Citadel while I gave my attention to the city and the surrounding fiefs."

"That must have shocked the Gondorians." Legolas said, chuckling. According to the Gondorian customs, women were, well, more reined in. Most of the Gondorian noblewomen took no part in administration.

"I shall leave to let you refreshen yourself." The King declared before turning on his heel.

"What! But we have barely met each other."

"If you think I will greet you while you have the traveler's filth on you, you are sorely mistaken." Aragorn retorted.

"Come now, I am sure I do not smell so bad... Come here." Legolas said, grinning mischievously as the elf reached forward with his arms. As he expected, the King retreated with a yelp and fled. Laughing hard, Legolas shook his head fondly and turned to his current task.

Once he was refreshed by a good bath and a hearty meal, the elf leaned back in his chair in satisfaction. Aragorn had joined the elf while he ate, and smiled when the elf relaxed in his chair.

"I hope you fare better now." Aragorn said.

"I do." The elf confirmed.

"Then come, master elf! You owe me a greeting." Laughing, the elf kicked back his chair and got up to greet his old friend. Aragorn pulled the prince into a tight embrace, thumping his back as he did so. The elf winced. Why do men keep doing that? The elf wondered.

"You need a fresh change of clothing." Aragorn murmured into the elf's shoulder.

The elf chuckled. "You need to wear more comfortable clothing." The King's armor was uncomfortable under his chin.

"Gondorian Protocol," Aragorn explained as he pulled back. "I have to be dressed in black and silver with my armor while on duty as the High King."

"I am beginning to appreciate the Gondorians less and less."

"But tell me," Aragorn went on, "How come you are dressed in Rohirric fashion?"

Legolas looked down. When he left for Gondor, the elf grabbed any clothing that was within reach. He wore black, tight-fitting tunic with long tight sleeves. The tunic reached his knee, split in Rohirric fashion to give him a freedom of movement off and on a horse. He wore matching leggings, and the only luxury on the overall outfit was the golden embroidery at the hem of his tunic.

" 'Tis a gift from the fair Lady Éowyn," the elf confessed. "The women had once gotten hold of my suit during the War of the Ring and had made it as a gift. But the War and the later events had not given them the opportunity to give them to me."

"Surely it is a fine piece!" Aragorn said, admiring the clothing.

"It is, though I do not know why they had only made it for me and not for Gimli or you."

"Gimli is no rider," Aragorn said, laughing as he remembered the auburn-haired dwarf and his dislike for horses. "And the Gondorians would not let me out of their sight. They seem to think I will disappear into thin air."

"Enough about you and I!" The elf cried. "Tell me! Where is our Evenstar? For my heart will be glad to see her!"

"Ah, I knew you would ask," the High King answered. "Come, she is within her chambers, but she impatient to know how you fare. She longs to hear about the Elven Lands."

"Then I will tell her." The elf replied, smiling broadly.

And so the royal led the elf by the hand through a number of corridors, apologizing profusely for the distance they had to walk. Legolas did not mind, and said as such, for it gave him some time to observe his friend as they walked together.

Aragorn, son of Arathorn was tall, his prowess in battle well-expressed by his body. He had an easy grace that he had often kept hidden under his cloak when he was a mere Ranger. The year in the Wild had not been kind to him, for he was scarred and his hands were weathered. He was weighed down by care and responsibility, the duty of a King adding to his burden, but Aragorn was still young in the eyes of the Dunedain. His face became youthful when he smiled, and he had kind eyes. There was still power in his movement, one that would intimidate its opponents, but he was just. Lord Elrond had taught him well, the elf thought with an assured smile. He will be a good king.

They reached the Queen's chambers. Aragorn pushed open the door, calling, "Arwen! There is someone here to see you."

Arwen was sitting by the fire, her legs curled underneath her. She was sewing, her raven locks falling forward as she bent over her task. Her husband's call startled her, and she looked up in confusion which quickly cleared away when she saw Legolas.

Legolas came forward with mixed feelings. It was a joy to see his age-old friend, but she was… aging. It was clear in her eyes, which no longer seemed timeless. They seemed to tire, as he had often noticed among mortals. But she was still beautiful. She had come forward with a joyful cry and Legolas' anguish over her mortality quickly vanished.

But when he embraced her, it was not her aging that surprised him but the flutter of a new life. He pulled back in surprise. Arwen blushed. "Really, Legolas, it does tend to happen."

"What is wrong with Middle-Earth in this new age?" Legolas asked, aghast.

"The start of a new world, my friend. Do not be so alarmed." Aragorn said soothingly.

"And you need a change of clothing." The lady added.

"Everyone seems to be offended by my clothing." The prince murmured.

"Not the clothing," Evenstar corrected. "The smell, my lord, the smell."

"Fetch me clothes, then, if the smell is so overpowering!"

Arwen, used to Legolas' speeches, was unfazed and with an impudent smile that she reserved only for her brothers, she rang for the maid and called for fresh clothes. When the maid returned, Arwen presented the suit to the elf, who examined them. They had flowing wide sleeves and colors of red and brown.

"Well, I'll be," Legolas murmured. "How come you have Elven garments, especially for males, Arwen?"

"It is mine," Aragorn affirmed. "But it should fit you."

Legolas made a face as he held up the clothes. They were sizes too big for his slimmer frame. And that gave only one explanation. Legolas said to the Gondorian King, "You are getting fatter; these clothes are far too big!"

"Or perhaps you are far too thin."

"I am completely fine as I am." Legolas went over and poked the King's ribs most disrespectfully. "I believe I feel the beginning of a belly right there…"

Aragorn grunted in pain and swatted his friend's hand away. "This is what happens when there is no war to fight and no skirmish to go into."

"It has only been a year to the War!"

"This brings us back to our main subject; tell me of Rohan. How does she fair?"

Legolas sighed and pulled up a chair to sit on.

He was about to sit down when Arwen interrupted. "Just a moment; I will not have an elf in my chambers who is wearing clothes smelling of weather and stink!" Legolas made a face.

"All this fuss over my clothes," Legolas snapped, though he was amused. Arwen shot him another glare she only reserved for her brothers. "Fine! I am changing, I am changing!"

He left for a moment and soon returned wearing fresh clothing and soiled garments in hand. Arwen studied him critically, looking him up and down and finally resting her eyes on the frank grin on the prince's face, "Satisfied, Evenstar?"

"For now." Arwen replied curtly. "I will have to talk to your father in finding you someone to run your house, but you can now talk about Rohan for all I care." Taking Legolas' used clothes, the Queen gave them both an imperious nod and left. Legolas quirked a smile, "She-elves," he muttered under his breath before taking a chair and sitting down. "I heard that!" Arwen's voice called from the corridor. Legolas winced but wisely made no smart reply.

And so Legolas began. He told Aragorn most of the beginning and the King listened with full attention. Legolas held back much of the details, skimming over the vague information of Rohan. It was a wise move. He trusted Aragorn, but it would simply not do for one kingdom to look weaker before the other. And the Rohirrim were proud. Legolas would not belittle them.

Aragorn sighed and got up. Offering a hand to the elf, he said, "Come, walk with me."

They walked together through the marbled corridors in companionable silence. At length, Aragorn spoke, "Things had not been so easy about here."

"Arwen, for first."

When Legolas raised an eyebrow, the King ventured to explain, "She has been quiet of late. My duties keep me from spending much time with her, but I know she has been distant lately. She has never smiled as broadly as she had done at your arrival."

"Completely understandable," Legolas protested. "Her father had left for the Undying Lands soon after her wedding. Her grandmother, Lady Galadriel is gone, and Celeborn does not venture out of his beloved woods, despite the dying mellorn trees. Her brothers are nowhere to be found. I recall that they had left for some adventure to the East. She must be glad to see her kith."

"Indeed," Aragorn murmured. "Oftentimes, I wish that she had chosen immortality."

"What is done is done." Legolas scoffed. "You and I cannot change it."

"True," Aragorn replied. "And yet, there had been an idea forming in my head. You have met the Ithilien Rangers? They had come to with my request to help Rohan."

"Indeed I have met them."

"I was wondering if a group of elves shifted to Ithilien, under your leadership. It would do Arwen good if her kind was close by…" Aragorn trailed off when he saw Legolas shake his head.

"I cannot be in two places at the same time." Legolas said. "And such an idea requires thorough planning. In the coming year, I will be busy with Rohan. And also, my people are busy restoring Mirkwood to what it once was. The Galadhrim would be hesitant to leave their beloved trees, even for their Evenstar. And," Legolas added apologetically, yet firmly. "Arwen is not a wilting flower. She is strong yet. She knew what her choice was and she has taken it. Let her settle."

Aragorn sighed but silently agreed. The idea was good but only to be pursued at a later time. For now, Gondor and Rohan had to regain their strengths.

"Besides," Legolas continued. Aragorn opened the doorway and stepped aside to let the elf go into the throne room first. "I doubt anyone of us would be able to-"Whatever Legolas was going to say, Aragorn would never find out for the elf painfully collided with someone else who happened to be coming from the other side.

Both Faramir and Legolas gave a cry of pain and stumbled back.

"Are you alright?" Aragorn asked, alarmed. He still stood at his spot, unsure to go to the elf or to his Steward.

"Who exactly are you asking?" Faramir asked through gritted teeth, massaging his bruised front.

"My question exactly." Legolas added, straightening. The Gondorian King looked from one to the other.

"Both, I suppose." Aragorn said. Now that he was king, he soon realized the safety of staying neutral.

"No broken bones, I am fine." Faramir announced, straightening his Ranger uniform.

"No broken bones," Legolas confirmed, "But I am worried about my head."

"I have questioned your sanity, my friend, long before you have started to question it." Aragorn quipped, sarcasm dripping from his words. There was still relief evident in his voice, now that he was sure both of them were out of danger. "So the collision would not have put more damage as there is already."

"Are you calling me incapable?"

"Mad and insane," Aragorn confirmed, nodding his head solemnly.

"At least try to keep my respect in third company." Legolas protested, indicating Faramir.

"The third company should not deceived by your charm."

"Ahem," Both royals turned their heads to regard the Steward, who smiled apologetically.

"I only meant to say," Faramir said softly. "This third company has a name and is fully capable of hearing, thank you."

"Ah, yes," Aragorn said, straightening. "Legolas, I assume you have already met Faramir?"

"Aye, I have." Legolas said, nodding towards the Steward, who nodded in return.

"And Faramir, I assume you have met Legolas?"

"Aye, I have."

"I had not expected to see you here." Legolas said, speaking to Faramir. The Steward smiled.

"I had not decided on coming, for I was needed elsewhere. However, my king's command brought me back to the White City." The Steward replied.

Legolas smiled in approval. Faramir was a young and mature man. He had a naturally low and deep voice but that was not a sign of weakness. His eyes were keen and capable of reading the hearts of men. Legolas had not been able to befriend the Steward, for they had only met once or twice, where they both remained cordial. The prince had only spoken to him enough to notice there was intelligence in the Steward's piercing grey eyes. He was shrewd, but he was humble; a perfect man to have as an advisor and as a loyal subject.

"Forgive me," Faramir said. "If I had known I was to greet a guest, I would have worn much more," Faramir trailed off, looking down at his travel-stained and weather-worn clothes, "Well, better clothing, to say the least. I had come straight to the Citadel from my mission without bothering for a wash or a change."

"I am not offended, for I have leaved in the open myself." Legolas assured the Steward. The two looked at one another warmly. Already, each were having high regards for the other.

"However," Legolas said, pressing his fist on his chest as a sign of mutual respect. "I must say; do not take offence of what I am about to do. I assure you that I have no wish to start a conflict or a war between my kind and yours." Studiously avoiding the puzzled looks on the faces of Aragorn and Faramir, he continued, "You should know, I had planned to do this only in the absence of Lady Arwen. I would never show any form of violence in her presence, especially in her delicate condition."

If Aragorn had a glimmer of understanding behind Legolas' words, he had no time to act upon it. The elf straightened quickly, and deftly backhanded the Gondorian King. Aragorn felt the stinging pain across his cheek as he fell, sprawled in an undignified lump over the marbled floor.

There was stunned silence before Legolas heard an unexpected sound; laughter. It came from Faramir, who went forward and grabbed his King by the shoulders, helping him up. "What have you done to the elf that has raised such ire?" he asked Aragorn. "I haven't the slightest idea." Aragorn answered, looking up at the glowering elf. There was something warm gushing from his lip. When Aragorn raised his hand to feel it, he realized that he split his lip in the onslaught.

"_You fool!" _Legolas burst out furiously. _"Are you dim-witted, or is it that Elrond had not been able to teach you nothing! Here you are, King of Gondor and you could not even have offered aid to your neighboring country! Or is it simply that you have grown corrupted in your short reign?" _Legolas spoke fast and quick in his native tongue, his words scathing. Faramir, though well-versed in the Elven Tongue, was not that fluent and could barely keep up but Aragorn understood all too well. The King held up his hands in a placatory manner.

"_Peace, brother!" _Aragorn murmured, straightening. _"I know my duty is to help and serve, but if you would be so kind to follow me outside, you may realize of my own reasons of not being able to help."_

Choosing now Westron, Aragorn spoke to Faramir, "Excuse us for a while. Legolas and I have much to discuss. You and I will return to the affairs of the State shortly."

Understanding that something significant has happened, Faramir nodded and left without complaint. Aragorn eyed the elf hesitantly before grabbing the elf by his shoulder and leading him outside.

"There are things you and I need to speak of." Aragorn said as he led his friend outside the building. "Perhaps you will then understand why I asked for your help."

"You see, my country has been, and still is, facing many problems of its own."

* * *

_Author's note:_

_I have a question for my readers; How would you describe Faramir? Does he seem canonic? Or do I have to make changes? Or is his portrayal all wrong?_

_So tell me, what do the older readers of this Story think? I know it was pretty new for them, so do leave a comment!_

_Thankfully this story is starting to pick up the pace a little, and do not worry, we will return to Rohan soon enough!_

_Replies to reviews:_

_emi: But emi, I did not change the characters from Legolas and Eomer to Legolas and Aragorn. And do not worry about the English. :) English is not my native language either!_

_Katarina Grace: I am sorry about Eomer. To tell you the truth, I could not bear him as well and personally, he is the most diffcult character I have written yet. I am still trying to get used to his personality. Tell me, how would you describe Eomer?_

_1monster2: Oh, I do hope I do not ruin his character then! That would leave a bad impression! Eomer has been the hardest character I have written yet! To tell you the truth, I had almost given up on the story because of his personality! *glares at Eomer*_


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Aragorn's cheek and lip were still hurting as he led his friend out into the open. The guards standing by the door stood at attention as he and Legolas passed by, their black cloaks whipping in the wind.

"That was a deft hand stroke, my friend." Aragorn commented, absently rubbing his smarting cheek. "Is this how elven royalty is brought up?"

"Nay," Legolas returned. "But this is how a friend should be. You still have to explain yourself."

"Come," Aragorn gestured towards the high marble fence that surrounded the Citadel.

They stood behind the marble fence that protected them from the sheer drop below. The wind was cold, but the sun was warm upon their faces. For some time, they simply stood there, leaning on the elbows to watch the circles below. They enjoyed the companionable silence, for despite Legolas' harsh words and the tiny demonstration of his annoyance, Aragorn was not offended. Their friendship had been built over mutual trust and both knew that if one of them had to censure the other, the other must simply understand the friendship behind the action.

"It has been a difficult year for Gondor." Aragorn said, breaking the silence. "During the Siege of Minas Tirith, most of the buildings were destroyed by fire or missiles." Aragorn said, gesturing at the lower levels as he spoke. "When Rohan came for aid, most of the circles were damaged. The lower two levels were completely inaccessible. After the battle of Pelennor Fields, we had buried as all the bodies within the city along with the fallen warriors. But we had not been able to clear the debris," Aragorn said, touching the elf lightly on the shoulder and pointing down below. Legolas saw the debris that had been cleared and removed from the city. The damaged stones were piled in a heap.

"We had not cleared the debris until after my wedding and when the guests had left. That was when we started to have problems. Illnesses started to appear in the lower levels. It then rapidly spread, killing more of my people as the illnesses worked towards the higher levels."

"But the Houses of Healing have cure for all illnesses except death." Legolas protested. "Why was there no aid from them?"

"There was." Aragorn replied, his eyes sad. "But the people were too many. Many died in the past year before the city was fully purged of the illnesses from the dead. In the end, we had almost twice as many bodies, with nowhere to bury them. We were determined to remove the bodies quickly, before we have yet another spread in our hands."

"We buried the contaminated corpses at the side in the Pelennor Fields." Aragorn said, gesturing at the left. Legolas looked at where the King was pointing. His finer sight showed him the newly dug soil, where the bodies were buried. " 'Tis like a vault of diseases." Legolas murmured. If that place was ever dug up, the results would be catastrophic…

"It was either that or watch my people die in my city." Aragorn said bitterly. "The past year has not been kind to us."

"And Arwen was unaffected." Legolas asked, frowning. As an elf, Arwen would be unaffected to diseases and resilient to poison. But now as a mortal, she was more vulnerable. "I never let her venture past the Citadel." The King answered. "It would not do for my people to lose their queen so early."

"Indeed." Legolas said stiffly. Aragorn looked at the elf.

"You are angry with me."

"Of course I am angry with you! Have you thought so little of our friendship that you did not tell me about your country's troubles? Have you thought that I as an elf, and you as a mortal that I would no longer care for you and what you hold dear?"

"Peace!" Aragorn exclaimed, placing his hand on the elf's shoulder to lessen his ire. "Anger does not suit you, my friend."

Aragorn smiled sadly at the elf. "You ask me why I had not told you of my kingdom's issues. Legolas, you had just returned home to find your forest cleansed and the darkness of Dol Guldur receding quickly from the trees. You had just returned to meet your father after being separating for a year. I am sure Thranduil had shown much joy on seeing you again. You may have planned the future, the rebuilding of Eryn Lasgelen and its return to glory."

Legolas stared at his long-time comrade, not enjoying how closely Aragorn had defined exactly what he and his father had planned.

"Legolas, I had no wish to tear you away from your people. I had no wish to drag you into my realm when none of it was your concern. Now I know," Aragorn continued, raising a hand to silence Legolas' protest, "that if I had but sent a word, you would have come immediately. But try to understand, I cannot turn towards the elves for help in every matter. I am the king, and decisions rested upon me. I had to learn to cope on my own."

"You always coped on your own." Legolas murmured. He was looking over the fence again. There was no anger in his voice, only understanding. "You had always been independent. But Aragorn, you need to understand that the only way Middle-Earth can remove the horrors of the War is by helping one another."

"We will send what we can to Rohan." Aragorn promised.

"That is not what I meant!" Legolas said, whipping about, frustrated. "I meant a show of support. Do you think that the Elven Realms have come out of this War unscathed? Lothlorien, Imladris and Mirkwood-"

"Eryn Lasgelen." Aragorn interrupted.

"Stop acting smart." Legolas snarled. "You know what I mean. All of these Realms have faced a large amount of destruction and loss of life. But the beauty of the winning a War is that in the end, we have to help each other. That is the key to survival. Use this moment to improve relations; otherwise both Rohan and Gondor will grow distant. The next time, there is a battle in Gondor or Rohan; the other ally will not be so willing to help."

Aragorn sighed. "I know, my friend, I know. But the weight of the kingdom is hard to bear." Rubbing his face with his hands, Aragorn looked away. Then he placed his hands before him. Aragorn stared at them. "Legolas," the King said slowly, his voice sounding almost broken. "When the illnesses spread, I was in the lower circle. All around me was suffering and pain. I did what I could in healing, but lives slipped through my fingers. Even when I tried to tighten my grip," the King made his hands into fists, "My people still died. Do you know how it is? I was a healer but what was worse, I was their king! And I could do nothing but watch as one person after the next left this world." At that confession, Aragorn's fist hit the marble fence hard, as if to vent out his frustration. "I only watched, and I was so helpless."

Legolas silently took the King's hands in his. For a moment, the elf gazed down at their joined hands. Aragorn's were weathered and scarred, his prominent knuckles showing him as a warrior, the ring on his finger marking him as married man. There were tiny wrinkles, still unseen for a mortal eye but Legolas could see them, slowly making their mark on the skin. His own, on the other hand (no pun intended), were pale, glowing with life and health. They were unscarred, with no ring showing his unmarried status. His father had often teased him, threatening playfully that he would send Legolas to some mining area in order to teach him the meaning of real work. Legolas never took it seriously, but ever since he had entered the Mannish Realms, he wondered; what was it like to age? What was it like, knowing that death will come one day?

"You should know as well as any other that you are not responsible for every ill turn that happens in life." Legolas said quietly. "Let it go, Aragorn. That is not worth your time. Mourn for those whom you have lost but with each passing day, rebuild where you can. Let others live on with hope."

Legolas gestured below as proof for his words, where the circles were thriving with people. They could hear echoes of laughter coming up by the wind.

"_You have grown wise, my friend."_

"_Tell that to my father. He still believes I am incapable of eating by myself."_

Aragorn chuckled before they fell into a comfortable silence.

"What of Faramir?" Legolas asked, breaking it. "I was half-expecting to see him with the White Lady, once I learned of her presence in Edoras."

"Faramir originally did plan to go with Lady Éowyn." Aragorn explained. "But Éowyn, knowing her brother's temperament, suggested that it would be wiser if only she went for Edoras. Faramir may be Éomer's brother by marriage, but they are still new friends. Éowyn did not wish to bring Faramir or Éomer into any unnecessary trouble. Éomer has shown little patience these days, as you may have seen for yourself." Aragorn said, looking at Legolas, who nodded in agreement. "We were expecting Éowyn's return but a messenger from Rohan came instead, announcing Éowyn's new arrival. After that, Faramir firmly told Éowyn to remain in Edoras, fearing for her safety and the child's. Also, certain problems and upraising had occurred near the borderline separating Gondor from Mordor, where the outlawed men now reside. I needed Faramir on the front lines, leading my men into the charge."

"And you said that there were no skirmishes." Legolas teased, grinning suddenly as he mercilessly poked Aragorn's belly once more. The Gondorian King shot the elf a long-suffering look. "You know, Legolas, one day… one day…"

"Continue with your report first." Legolas interrupted, laughing as he raised a hand for silence. "I will listen to your threats later."

"Regardless," Aragorn continued, glaring pointedly at the elf. He placed his hand on the elf's shoulder and led him on the marbled walkway back inside. "My people are doing considerably well under our hard circumstances. Homes are being rebuilt. Construction is well under way here in Minas Tirith and as well as along the coastline, where the Corsairs of Umbar had caused a great deal of chaos."

"We are not helpless." Aragorn added. "We have food aplenty and my men are strong and ready for any battle, if we face any danger from the East. The scattered orcs have fled and those who have stayed are almost eliminated. And we have enough men to help rebuild the destroyed cities."

"That is good news." Legolas said, glancing back at the direction of Mordor before entering the building of the Citadel. Aragorn quickly led him to the right, which opened into the corridors for the King's Study and various council rooms. The King opened up a door, offering the elf to enter first.

Faramir looked up from the book he had been reading.

"Ah, you are here. I was beginning to worry that something was amiss."

"All is well, my loyal friend." Aragorn said, closing the door behind him. "Forgive me; I seem to have made you wait for a long time."

"It is of no consequence." Faramir assured them quietly, getting up and placing the book back on the shelf.

Legolas regarded the Steward. Faramir seemed to have taken a wash, but his clothes were unchanged. The elf assumed that, considering Faramir's impeccable manners, he did not leave the Study for fear Aragorn and Legolas would arrive in his absence.

"Well, what does Rohan need of us, Ambassador Legolas?" Aragorn asked, chuckling at the name he had given the elf. Legolas winced. First he had been called nanny, now this.

"Well what can you spare, oh Wild King?" Legolas asked back, keeping his voice as polite as Aragorn's had been. Aragorn winced, remembering the event that he made him earn such a name. Behind him, Faramir gave a treacherous snort of laughter.

Aragorn's eyes glinted in mischief. "Well, I could lend you some of my advisors-"

"Absolutely not," Faramir said firmly. Legolas looked at the Steward, startled. The Ithilien Ranger smiled apologetically. "My apologies, Master Elf, for I meant no offence. Gondor will help where she can but trust me; you will find our Gondorian advisors tedious. They will talk in circles for hours on end without reaching a reasonable conclusion. The only reason my liege-lord," Faramir glared at his King, who shrugged and grinned in defeat, "wants you to have the advisors is so that he can get rid of them himself."

"I knew you were not a good friend." Legolas said, whipping about and glaring at the King. Aragorn raised his hands in placatory manner (or as a feeble defense if he was attacked again).

"Then why did you befriend me?"

"That was a mistake on my part, which I will make sure not to repeat again. Come, Lord Faramir! Since your king is useless to call for advice." Legolas ignored the squawk of protest from Aragorn. "Tell me, what would you suggest?"

"Open trade between Gondor and Rohan." The Steward said. "That should satisfy us as well as Rohan. For you see, Rohan needs grain and we need money. We have the grain and Rohan-"

Legolas did not hear the rest. Rohan did not have the money, or the grain. But as Fion had said, problems have a way of solving out themselves.

"My thoughts exactly," Legolas said aloud. Then turning to Aragorn, the elf grinned and said, "See, Aragorn? What did you do to deserve such a willing man?"

"I haven't the slightest idea." Aragorn said. He noted Faramir's flush and not wanting to cause further discomfort for the Steward, he quickly added, "But do try not to compliment him in his presence, I would like him in clear awe and respect of me."

"Respect is earned, not bought, my liege." Faramir replied.

"Legolas, your impudent behavior seems to be rubbing off on him."

"The person whom you are referring to is standing right here, Sire." Faramir protested, clearly feeling out of the element here.

"If you two are done playing," Legolas said, raising a brow. "I am in a hurry and we have things to discuss."

Legolas turned towards Faramir and asked, "And do you know someone who could establish the end of our trade here in Gondor, or Dol Amroth to be more precise?"

"I do. In fact, you could trust her. She is honest and straightforward."

"She?" Legolas asked, noting the gender.

"My cousin, Lady Lothíriel of Dol Amroth," Faramir said. He further explained, "She is a noblewoman, I agree, and she is no fighter but Lothíriel has handled the administration ever since she was nineteen. It would not be a problem to her."

"I have no question in her abilities but such a large trade-"

"Will not be a problem to her." Faramir finished. "She was responsible of providing the armies from Dol Amroth and the surrounding fiefs and had also brought aid more than once to my Rangers. She is no stranger when it comes to trade, that I assure you. She will make important negotiations without as much as a falter in her words. And do not be fooled with her youth, she is very resourceful and thinks in the same pattern as I do."

"You have high regards for her," Legolas said. "And I have high regards for you, so I will respect whoever you ask me to respect. "I agree with this idea."

"Now we have the negotiator, we have the possible city for trade, now we need to know the supplies we need, the routes and the price for it all." Legolas said.

"Well, we will certainly not gain anything by simply talking." Aragorn said, bending down to grab a few recent reports from Dol Amroth. "Faramir can go through the reports and see what we have and what we can spare. He is more familiar with the roads of Gondor than I am." Faramir took the offered reports with a nod and a smile. "Legolas, write down what Rohan needs. And as for myself, I need to check the prices for it all. Since this will be a great trade, we will keep the prices low. And we will need men to guard the caravans. The bandits and outlaws have become far too bold for my liking."

Legolas and Faramir nodded and went to the empty desks, having spare parchments, inks, quills and maps.

Legolas was surprised to find out that Faramir was more easy-going than the most of the nobles he had met last year during his stay in Minas Tirith. He was not prude, and he was not judgmental. Legolas remembered how he had to be aware of every single thing he did for fear of how the Gondorian nobles would think. Faramir did not bother one bit.

The Steward was bent over the table, working out possible routes leading from Gondor straight into Rohan. They had included major cities as stops for respite for the travelling caravans. Legolas was the one who had worked out the logic. "We want it to remain official." He had explained. "That way, it would discourage most of the bandits, if not all, from looting them."

Legolas had written what Rohan needs, while Aragorn estimated the price for all of it. Legolas saw the number, and was glad that his face was schooled to a mask of indifference. It would not do to show that Rohan did not have that kind of money.

"All of this is still hypothetical." Faramir remarked finally as he studied the marked routes on the map as well the supplies that Rohan needed. "We still have to discuss this with Lothíriel."

"And Rohan needs to contact her as well." Aragorn added, turning towards Legolas.

"It will be done." Legolas had murmured in reply.

Faramir sighed and then rolled up the map that had the marked routes and handed it to the elf. "You might want to take this back to Éomer. I would imagine he would like to know what has been planned."

"Do you not need a map showing the possible routes for Lady Lothíriel?" Legolas asked, but Faramir shook his head and held up another map. "I have already marked another map for the routes to take to my cousin." The Ranger explained. "The list of the supplies has been copied as well for her."

Aragorn handed one copy bearing the price and the list of supplies to Legolas and the other copy to Faramir. "Well, that is taken care of." Aragorn commented. Faramir, who stood with the same discreetly pleasant expression, could not fool his king and Aragorn read the weariness in the Steward's eyes. "Now go and take care of your rest. You have more than just earned it."

"I thank you but I am fine enough to join dinner."

"Nay, you are not." Aragorn said firmly. "I will not have a good soldier take his own needs lightly. Go and rest, Faramir. You need it."

"So my king commands me, so shall I do." Faramir said, laughing lightly. He gave an extravagant bow to his king and excused himself from the Study.

"He is a good man," Legolas said once the Steward has left.

"He is," Aragorn said, shifting his papers and preparing his table for the next time he came to work. "Though I am surprised why he is so cordial today. Do not mistake me, Faramir is very eloquent in words but this is the first time in a year that he has spoken without throwing a witty remark over my kingly duties-"

"You have me here," Legolas reminded him.

"Ah yes. In fact, I am surprised at you as well. You were also very cordial in your speech."

"I think that Steward intimidates me."

"Bah!"

"Nay, really he does." Legolas said, laughing. "Éomer and Faramir have very different influence on me. In Éomer's presence, I am more tempted to argue with him but Faramir's presence makes me check my tongue!"

"I will tell your father that I have finally found someone who would possibly be resistant to your charms."

"Ha! Please do not mock me! My father personally chose twelve elves as my escort whom he thought would be resilient to my charms and do you know what they did? As soon as we entered Edoras, each of them was ready to take part in my mischiefs." Legolas stopped, realizing that he spoke too much.

"Mischiefs?" Aragorn asked, looking up at the elf. "What mischiefs?"

"Nothing," Legolas said nonchalantly. "Come Aragorn we must hurry to get ready in time for dinner."

"Absolutely not! Dinner can wait! You, on the other hand, cannot. Tell me! What mischiefs?"

" 'Twas nothing."

" 'Twas everything!" Aragorn snarled. "Sit down, Legolas! You are not leaving this room until you tell me what kind of havoc you were causing in Rohan's lands!"

"Well, it was not that-"

"Legolas!"

"Fine!" the elf snapped. "Well, you should pull up a chair. This will take some time."

Legolas told Aragorn everything. He had nothing to hide really. Besides, he enjoyed Aragorn's look of disbelief.

"You and your antics," Aragorn groaned aloud once Legolas was done. "Poor Éomer! I remember the time when you used the drinking trick on me. There was nothing more terrible! Elladan and Elrohir were laughing for days and Erestor still recounts the tale with a disturbing satisfaction. And why did you throw him in the bath for?"

"I had to wake him up somehow."

"You could have hit him to wake him up."

"I happen to enjoy the fact that my limbs are intact and not… separated from my body."

"Aye, there is that." Aragorn conceded. "But I would have thought that Fion would have already told you not to cause mischief."

"He did." Legolas said smoothly. "He said that I cannot cause mischief in the horse-lord's lands. There was nothing mentioned of the horse-lord himself!"

"I hate it when you manipulate words like that." Aragorn muttered under his breath.

" 'Tis something I learned from my father."

Aragorn shuddered. Thranduil was the best when it came to manipulation. Legolas was like his father in more ways than one.

"Well, I hope you learn some Rohirric sense of honor. There is no manipulation tactics in the country."

Legolas smirked, remembering Éothain's role in getting Éomer drunk. "That is because you do not know much of them than you think."

Aragorn chose not to question the elf. His head was already aching as it is when he heard of Legolas' antics.

"So I take it that you fully approve of my Steward?" Aragorn asked, changing the subject.

"I do. You can trust him if that is what you are asking." Legolas answered. Aragorn smiled, relieved. This did not mean that he had no trust in Faramir, but he knew Legolas' ability in guessing people's intentions and the prince's opinion meant more to the Gondorian King than he would ever admit.

"Although I have to admit," Legolas added, "he is too serious. That man could do with a little excitement." The elf rubbed his hands together as if he was planning something.

"You will do nothing to him." Aragorn said sternly. Legolas quickly assumed a hurt look.

"Why do you think I would do something?"

"Really, Legolas! I know you well enough to recognize your behavior. You will not corrupt my poor Steward!"

"Corrupt!" Legolas said, sounding disgusted. "I never corrupted anyone."

"Look what you did to Fion! That was good, serious elf and now he is playing pranks beside you. And what about your elven escort?"

"Do you actually think I would alter the personalities of the people around men?" Legolas said, his voice taking a thunderous edge similar to his father's. Aragorn was unfazed.

"Yes!"

Legolas grinned suddenly. "Good. It means you do know me as well as you claim. Come, we really should be getting ready for dinner. As it is still three to four hours away, I think I will take some rest." The elf got up his seat and made for the door, an amused Aragorn following close behind.

"I thought elves do not need to rest."

"Impudent mortal."

oOo

Dinner was an enjoyable affair. He dined with Arwen and Aragorn. Faramir, sensing the elf's friendship with the King and Queen, wanted to withdraw and eat with the soldiers in their mess but none of them would hear of it.

"For pity's sake, I am only meeting them after a year." Legolas had said, taking the Steward by the shoulders and leading him to the dinner table. "Come! The more, the merrier!"

So Faramir joined them. They ate in silence in the beginning, unsure where to start. That was until Arwen started a topic on the food and soon the men and the elf joined in, recounting wild tales of their time in the Wild, where food was scarce and they ate what they had.

"My former mentor had taken a liking for a brew called coffee once." Legolas said once, shaking his head. "I wanted to try it but Fion said that I am already too alert and active as it is. Apparently, the brew has some effects and causes wakefulness. He did not want me running amok, or so he had said." There was a quiet laughter at that one. Faramir, though a reserved man, slowly started to take a liking for the elf. The Steward not thought much of Legolas aside from the fact that the latter was an experienced warrior and lethal with his knives and bow.

Arwen only smiled, letting the topics slip from one to another until it went to the typical sort that males chat over; weaponry. It shifted more and Arwen soon lost track of what they were speaking of. So she sat, simply enjoying the company.

Legolas, on the other hand, strangely felt a little empty. He missed (what was the matter with him?) the loud parties of the Rohirrim, where there was laughter and chatter. But here in the cold marble halls with dimly lit candles, the air felt stifling with only the King, the Queen, Steward and Prince sitting at the large, lonely table.

Once the dinner was over, Aragorn suggested retreating to one of the studies for a late-night talk before heading for bed. Faramir and Legolas agreed but when Legolas was getting up from his seat, Arwen stopped him by grabbing his wrist.

"It seems, my good King," Arwen said to her husband. "That you plan to spend the entire elf's stay in his company. However, I claim some time with the elf tonight, and you will have to be content with it."

Aragorn chuckled. "If I have a happy wife, I will live a happy life." The King said, causing an eruption of laughter from both Legolas and Faramir. The King turned towards the elf. "Forgive me, Legolas. This matter is out of my hands!"

"Nothing seems to remain in your hands, Elessar." Legolas said; sarcasm was clear in his voice. "I must say, I am beginning to question your capability of ruling over such a vast kingdom. I hope he is not a disappointment," Legolas said, the last line being spoken to Faramir. "I do not know how you are able to bear him, my good Steward!"

Faramir smiled indulgently. He had realized Legolas' attempts to include the Ranger into the conversation and he personally admitted that his regard for the elf was starting to grow greater due to his easy-going manner.

"He is the only king we have, Master Elf."

"See, Legolas!" Aragorn said. "Understand what he is trying to say!"

"Or what he is not trying to say." Legolas retorted. Aragorn laughed at what the elf was implying. Arwen had had enough. Gesturing at Legolas to get up, Arwen also rose from her seat.

"Excuse us, my lords, there is much for Legolas and I to discuss." With all the grace the Queen possessed, she said, "Come along, Legolas. Do not dawdle."

Without waiting for the elf to follow, she left through one of the doors.

Waving a hand of farewell at the King and the Steward, Legolas quickly caught up with the Queen. As he came close, the elf hissed, "I will have you know, Evenstar, that just because you can order your husband about does not mean you can do the same to me!"

"And look who it is who is following me?" Arwen said, raising an elegant brow.

Legolas grinned and decided not to reply. This was a precious meeting, and he wanted to enjoy it, not waste it on his regular squabbles.

oOo

"_So tell me," _Arwen said once they had entered her chambers. She led Legolas to her balcony and gestured him to sit on one of the chairs. When he did, she offered him a drink. _"How are our Elven Realms?"_

"_As well as they could be." _Legolas answered, watching the Queen sit down on the opposite chair, her light purple dress softly rustling in the movement. Arwen raised an eyebrow at the vague description.

"_Surely you could do better than that. Tell me everything."_

"_Everything?" _Legolas said, chuckling. _"I see you have not changed; you have lost none of your inquisitiveness."_

"_Was I supposed to change after becoming Queen?" _Arwen asked, genuinely puzzled. Legolas took a sip before answering.

"_Nay," _Legolas responded simply. _"So what do you want to know? Nay, do not answer that," _Legolas said, laughing when the Queen opened her mouth to speak. _" I will tell you everything."_

Setting down his goblet, Legolas ventured into the tales of his forest from the time he had returned up to the time he had left. Arwen listened in interest, enjoying the telling. Legolas used his hands, explaining his father's great plans for Eryn Lasgelen. She listened with great interest, and if her heart would admit it, with a little bit of longing.

Legolas noticed the wistful look on Arwen's face as he continued to talk. There was something weighing heavily on her heart. Legolas suspected that was partially the reason why she had brought him here. Aragorn may be her husband, but Legolas had been a close friend for an entire age. He knew Arwen well. And, privately, he was impressed. The Queen knew full well that Aragorn had felt somewhat guilty in Arwen's current loneliness. So Legolas' arrival proved to be a blessing for her. There was someone to talk to.

And yet, Legolas seemed changed from now. It was not only sea-longing that added to the elf's outward appearance, but there was an air of command about Legolas that even he himself was not aware of.

Soon, Arwen's thoughts shifted away from what Legolas was saying. The prince noticed the change and his voice trailed away.

"_Why do you not tell me what is troubling you, youngling?" _Legolas asked gently. _"Perhaps I could be of service."_

Arwen's eyes filled with tears at the gentle voice. It had been so long since she had seen her own kind. It had been merely a year, it is true but she soon realized how hard it was becoming for her to settle.

Not wanting to look weak, the Queen quickly stood and made for the balcony, turning her back towards the prince. But Legolas was just as stubborn. He stood up and walked to her.

"_Come now, tell me what troubles you. I am sure Aragorn will be able to help." _Legolas said, rubbing her shoulder with an affection similar to that an uncle would have for his niece.

"_My brothers." _Arwen whispered.

Slowly, Legolas' heart sank. He should have known. The Queen sobbed and leaned against Legolas' shoulder. Inside, the Elven prince's heart was gnawing with guilt. He closed his eyes and allowed her to cry.

oOo

_Set in the first year after the War of the Ring._

_Mirkwood._

"_Are you out of your mind?" Legolas said furiously, quickly re-sheathing his twin knives._

_The two hooded figures that had startled him re-sheathed their swords._

"_Our apologies, Prince Legolas. We did not mean to startle you."_

_Legolas waved a careless hand. "That is of no consequence. What are you two doing here anyway? And what do you two want?"_

_Elrohir and Elladan both took off their hoods, their coal-black locks tumbling down their shoulders._

_Elrohir smiled and asked, "Why do you think we want anything?"_

"_You said 'Prince Legolas'." Legolas explained dryly. "That usually means that you want something from me."_

_The twin smiles faded from their faces. "Aye, we do. 'tis a favor that we want from you."_

_Legolas raised an eyebrow. "Go on."_

"_We want someone to know that we are leaving."_

"_Leaving?" Legolas repeated in disbelief. "Leaving for where?"_

"_We cannot say." Elladan put in. "But we will return, that we assure you."_

"_We will let our people think we have left for the East," Elrohir added. "But that is not where we intend to go."_

"_We- ah-," Elladan stammered, shifting a little. "We only wanted someone to know."_

_Legolas stared at one twin to the other. And to think he thought these two were adorable when they were babies! "And who exactly came up with this foolish idea?"_

"_Both of us did." Elladan said, looking confused. "Why?"_

"_So that I could fetch a switch and give you a proper hiding!" Legolas snarled. "Who taught you to follow your impulses like that?"_

"_You did." The two chorused. Deciding this approach was not working, Legolas took another one._

"_And what of your sister?" Legolas demanded. "Do you intend to leave her here? Abandon her?"_

_The twins winced at the harsh words. "We are not abandoning her." The twins protested. "Please, Legolas. This is something we just have to do."_

_The Elven Prince sighed wearily. "When do you plan to return?"_

_Elrohir and Elladan looked relieved. Maybe Legolas will let them go after all and not drag them back to Imladris._

"_It may take two years at the most."_

"_You had better return after two years then."_

"_We promise." Elrohir said. But Elladan looked at the older elf in disbelief._

"_So you are just letting us go?" Elladan asked warily._

_Legolas shrugged. "You are old enough to make your decisions and not die at the result of them. You can go. But mark my words, this had better not cause grief to Evenstar."_

"_It may," Elrohir said quietly. "We daren't tell her, for she may fear for us in this quest of ours."_

"_You did not even ask us if what we are going to do is dangerous." Elladan said, who still couldn't believe that Legolas was letting them go._

_Legolas sighed. He regarded the two younger elves before him. They may be an age old, but they were both still very young. He wondered idly if the twins knew how their grey eyes seemed to be burning with an inner fire, just as it used to in the Noldorin folk of the past._

"_You have done many dangerous things." Legolas said quietly. "Some of which I was not approving of. But I am neither your father or of close kin. Do as you like but promise me that this will be the last of your adventures. For too long have you both acted out of revenge. 'tis time for the both of you to let go of the past and enjoy the future. Go," Legolas added. " Go with my blessing. I trust you enough to know that neither of you will do anything foolish."_

"_Promise us you will not tell anyone, especially Arwen and Aragorn, about our meeting." Elladan insisted. "We would have told them, but they deserve their newly found happiness."_

"_I will not, you have my word."_

_Satisfied, the twins gave him a look of gratitude and pulled up their hoods._

_As they were leaving, Elrohir turned back and said, "And Legolas. This is not revenge we are set out to do. We simply want a healing… for someone else."_

"_I have already guessed." Legolas replied softly. "Now go, before my patrol finds you!"_

_The last thing Legolas had seen were the twins, disappearing into the darkness of the forest._

oOo

_Set in the second year after the War of the Ring, _

_Minas Tirith._

Legolas held Arwen as she cried. She was afraid for her brothers. This was not the first time the twins had gone out into the wild but it was the first time they had left without warning.

"_They will be alright, little one." _Legolas murmured. _"And they will come back to you."_

Arwen pulled back and looked up, wiping away her tears as she did so.

"_You think so?"_

"_I know so."_

Arwen smiled.

* * *

_Author's note:_

_Over 6,000 words... wow. I had never written that much before._

_I know there is a lot of... what, is angst the word? Or hurt/comfort? But I needed a bridge for Gondor and Rohan._

_As for Arwen, I couldn't just ignore her. She doesn't really play much role as a character in the book nor would she play such a role in my story. I think this will be the last face-to-face encounter with Arwen. I just wanted to give her something of her old life, and let her shed some healing tears so that she could move on._

_As for Legolas' age. I always considered him older than Arwen and her brothers. Legolas said in Fangorn forest that the trees were so old that he felt almost young. So I had always considered Legolas old enough to lead a group of elves into the Last Battle of the first War of the Ring. I was surprised to see that in the fanfiction world, people had placed it the other way around. (which really did not make sense but I enjoyed the stories all the same, lol.) :D :D_

_I hope this chapter answered the many questions that had come up (and had risen more questions in its place, he he)._

_Oh and by the way, you won't find out what the twins are up to. It is not for this story, but will open up another gateway for me. (If I take it.)_

_This story is still meant to be between Eomer and Legolas, so Arwen's chapter is closed._

_If Faramir got out of character, kill him. _

_If Arwen got out of character, spare her. I like her. (Sorry, Faramir.)_

_Replies to reviews:_

_QueenRexKenobi124: I did not mind. The only thing that did worry me is that is my story even interesting to read? And it would have been tiring to review all five chapter again. I am glad that you found the story. :)_

_emi: I know, I am struggling with the mortals here. Gondor is pretty new terrain for me. And in my exam-weakened mind, it is harder to portray them even more. I hope the twins' part becomes less confusing (or more confusing, lol)._

_Actually, I do plan to write on Legolas' friendship with Faramir which will take place in Ithilien. That would (hopefully) be the sequel of this story. And that will hold the twin's as well._

_As for the character mix-up, I checked and you are right. I have no idea why ffn is doing that to me, so I guess I will have to settle for it as it is. :)_

_missteigne: My sincerest apologies, but I do not know how to speak your language. If I did, I would have surely replied in the same manner. :)_


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Legolas sat on the marble fence of his balcony, his legs dangling dangerously down the unprotected side. He was not bothered by the height he was in and he knew he could not sit in such a fashion had his father or his former mentor had been there. Thranduil was sure that his son got into unnecessary mess and his former mentor was adamant that Legolas' antics would lead Fion to an early death.

Still, Legolas was comfortable on his perch, where he could watch the red glow of the sun unhindered. Beneath him, he heard nervous shouts of the Citadel Guards, who had noticed where he was sitting.

He refused to think about his upcoming journey and tried his hardest not to worry for his elven escort that he had left (Fion would have preferred the word 'abandoned') in Rohan. After all, what could be the worst thing to happen in his absence?

A discreet knock interrupted his thoughts. Legolas turned his head and called, "Come in."

Faramir entered the room. He looked about before his eyes rested on the elf. The Steward's eyes widened a little when he realized just where the elf was sitting.

"Is there a problem, Lord Faramir?" Legolas asked, successfully keeping his face expressionless.

" 'Tis nothing, Prince. Though I have to admit," Faramir said, coming to stand beside the elf and eyeing the sheer drop below. "There are less bloody ways to commit suicide."

Legolas chuckled. "I assure you, such a thought did not occur to me. I only found out that the sunrise is much more enjoyable up here. Why don't you join me?"

Faramir gave him a baffled look. Legolas laughed and offered a hand. "Come, come. I assure you, I will not let you fall, and it is not that sheer a drop."

"For an elf, perhaps, but for a man, that drop could kill!"

"I will say it again; I will not let you fall." Legolas beckoned with his hand. Then seeing Faramir's look, Legolas added, "I will not be offended if you refuse, I assure you."

Faramir quickly took the elf's hand before he could retract it. "I was not going to decline. You had only taken me by surprise."

The elf's smile widened, and with a tug, he helped Faramir sit on the marble fence and swing his legs on the other side.

Faramir's breath hitched when he realized the sudden danger should he…

"Try to relax." Legolas said softly. " 'Tis more enjoyable that way."

Understanding the need, the Steward slowly let his breath out, his muscles loosening in the action.

There was a silence as the two marveled the beauty of a new day.

"How went your meeting with the Queen?" Faramir asked, breaking the silence.

Legolas thought back to the night before. He had been beside himself with guilt, but he kept his council, knowing that it would do no good if Arwen knew what her brothers were up to. They had chatted after she had cried, shifting to merrier topics until Arwen had nodded off to sleep. Legolas had placed a warm throw on her and left quietly. He had only stopped by the King's study, where Faramir and Aragorn were still chatting, telling the king of the Queen's condition.

"It did both I and her good by meeting together." Legolas replied, pulling his cloak about him at the sudden gust of cold wind. "What of your meeting with Aragorn?"

"I should have slept when I had the chance." Faramir confessed, smiling. "My liege-lord is most adept in staying awake at the late hours of the night. You are causing quite a stir down there."

Looking down to see what Faramir meant, he caught the Gondorian soldiers running about in panic. Some pointed up at the two figures sitting on the balcony fence.

"I think it is you who is causing the stir, Lord Faramir." Legolas said, seeing how the word 'Steward' passed from one guard's lips to the other. Faramir shrugged.

"I truly do not think it is much to cause fuss on. I am in no particular danger."

Legolas chuckled. Only a moment ago, the Steward baulked at the idea on sitting on a balcony fence.

"Forgive me," Legolas said softly. He ignored the shouts coming from below. "I seem to have forgotten my manners again." Faramir looked at the elf quizzically. "I had forgotten to congratulate you on your coming new family."

For the first time, Legolas witnessed a bright smile on the Steward's face.

"Ah, you know, do you?" Faramir said. "I thank you. You should know; I am not the least offended. State affairs are rather taxing and take more of our time than they should."

"You must be very happy."

"I am." Faramir assured him. "Though, I must admit, I wanted to be there with my wife during this time. But it seems it is not to be so."

"Why not join her there?"

"I would have if I could." Faramir said regrettably. "But there are people in Gondor who are not happy with the king. They thought that the era of Stewards were better. I am popular among such people. I must stay to show my support for the king."

"Éowyn may come to Ithilien. My escort could bring her to your forest safely-" But Faramir shook his head.

"The offer is tempting, I assure you. But I have made plenty of warm enemies during my current campaign. I want my beloved to stay out of reach, where nothing may harm her or my child. You may call me an anxious father but I have lost too many people dear to my heart in the War."

"Besides, Éowyn would be more comfortable if she stayed full term in the home she was brought up. And only her happiness matters. However," Faramir added, pulling out a bunch of letters he had kept when he entered the elf's room. "I do not mean to be insistent but could you deliver these letters to my lady wife. It has been so long since we have spoken to each other and I wish to-"

"Say no more." Legolas said, taking the letters. "I do not mind at all. You have no need to explain yourself."

"I thank you."

Suddenly two hands shot out, roughly grabbing the collars of both the elf and the Steward. Legolas and Faramir choked as they were jerked off the marble slab.

"What in Middle-Earth were you two doing?" Aragorn asked his captives, fury burning in his eyes. He shook one captive in his grip, then the other.

"We were talking." Legolas offered, breathing in the precious air when the king loosened his grip somewhat.

"I saw that," Aragorn snapped, letting go of them both. Faramir and Legolas straightened warily. "What I meant was why you were both talking whilst sitting on the edge of balcony fence facing a sheer drop below!"

"It was not that sheer a drop." Faramir protested. Aragorn looked at his Steward before groaning aloud.

"I see it has already begun." The king moaned before pointing an accusing finger at the elf. "Did u not tell you that you would wreak havoc in my household?"

"I admit the words escaped my mind." Legolas said blandly.

The king harrumphed and turned on his heel, his armor clinking and his cloak swishing about him as he did so.

"Come, since it is useless to argue with you, join us for breaking our fast. Your little stunt has left most of my guards begging for early retirement and my queen and I desperate for a meal."

Legolas smirked and followed. His grin became wider when he heard Faramir mutter, "The part about the guards was an exaggeration."

Again, the morning meal was a pleasant affair, now friendlier once natural reservations were gone. Faramir was more talkative than he had been the night before, and Arwen took more of an active part in the conversations.

Aragorn had offered of holding a ball in the Prince's honor, to which Legolas immediately refused.

"I know nothing of Gondorian customs," Legolas said wryly. "And what little I know makes me wonder if I even want to know more. Spare me! Perhaps I like the Rohirrim ways more."

"I cannot help but agree at times." Faramir murmured.

"Traitor," Aragorn muttered, sinking into his seat, only to be sharply poked at by his wife. Wincing the king sat straight once again, gaining amused chuckles from the elf and the Steward.

The meal was concluded on that happy note. Arwen was to leave and help the women take care of project of the Citadel. This was farewell between Legolas and Arwen.

Legolas pulled Arwen into an embrace.

"_If you ever need to talk to someone, send me a letter." _Legolas whispered. _"I will be in Rohan for the remaining month, hopefully. Just send the paper and I will reply. You have my owrd." _

"_I thank you." _Arwen murmured. _"Farewell, my good friend."_

"Why don't you go and pack?" Aragorn suggested. "Faramir and I will join you shortly, once I discuss some State Affairs with my Steward."

"Excellent idea,"

"Back to work." Faramir muttered under his breath, following his king to one of the nearer studies.

oOo

Legolas looked up when the door of his room opened.

"Are you ready?" Aragorn asked coming to stand by the bed.

"Did you ever hear the etiquettes of knocking?" Legolas returned dryly.

"I had forgotten most of it when I became a ranger. So, are you ready?"

"Almost," Legolas answered, gesturing at the few items that had not yet been packed. These were the marked maps, sealed letters to Éomer from Aragorn and Faramir both, discussing the trade and other matters. Legolas had prepared a separate leather bag, lined with oiled cloth to protect the important documents from the weather.

"Be careful with those," Faramir added, seeing the papers. "I do not wish it to go into enemy hands."

"I doubt that it could be of any use." Legolas replied. He gathered the papers and packed them. "But they are important to Rohan and that is what concerns me."

"You do have food and water?" Aragorn asked. He had earlier sent a servant to resupply Legolas' packs.

"Yes, indeed."

"Medical supplies? Bandages?"

"Really, Aragorn, you make it sound as if I will run into trouble."

"Knowing you, you probably would."

"Such little trust in your old friend…"

"Precisely, Legolas. Kindly note the emphasis on old. You are not what you used to be."

"Insolent brat," Legolas muttered.

Faramir decided to step in before the two went into another one of their arguments.

"Would you need anything else, Master Elf?"

"Nay, not really," Legolas said. He paused and frowned as if in thought before adding, "But I need your cloak."

"My cloak?" Faramir asked in disbelief.

"Aye, your cloak! And nay," Legolas said looking up and laughing slightly at Faramir's expression, "I am not mad."

Bemused, Faramir unclasped the heavy cloth off his shoulders and offered it to the elf. Legolas took it up, bundled it and shoved it unceremoniously into his saddlebags.

"May I ask what you are going to do with it?"

"You can thank me later." Came the elf's smooth reply. Faramir was about to protest, but Aragorn leaned over and whispered, "Do not argue. I have learnt to follow the elf's impulses for he is usually right in the end; I guarantee you would be thanking him later."

Legolas looked up from his rummaging, a broad grin on his face. He had heard Aragorn's words. "So you finally spoke pearls of wisdom." The elf said Aragorn. " 'Tis about time."

"And yet you are older than me, with no words of advice." Aragorn replied dryly.

"That is because I hide my good character. I am not a boastful type."

"Only one with false modesty." Aragorn shot back. The two grinned. Faramir shook his head. It seemed that the two did not mind playful insults that they throw at each other.

"Excuse us, my lords." Faramir said, moving back reluctantly. "My men await my return at the edge of Lossarnach, and it would not do if I tarry any longer. Safe travels, Master Elf." Faramir added to the elf, warmly clasping the elf's wrist.

"And to you as well." Legolas responded. "Never fear; I will give your letters to the White Lady."

"I thank thee." Faramir said. Turning to his sovereign, he said, "I will see thee soon, Sire."

"Aragorn," Aragorn corrected gruffly. "This sire's name is Aragorn. Or Estel. Or Elessar. Or Longshanks. Or Wingfoot. Or even Strider!"

Faramir's lips twitched upward. "As you wish, your majesty." The Steward said, stressing on the title as he exited the room.

Legolas' frame shook in amusement.

"He really does know how to irritate you, does he not?"

"Sometimes, I think he enjoys it." Aragorn said, shaking his head but smiling still.

"Come, my friend. Give your things to the servant boy outside and let us go to the lowest level."

oOo

Aragorn leaned against the wooden wall of the stall and crossed his arms. He watched the elf bend down, running his hands over the horse's flanks to check for any sign of tenderness.

"How are you?" Aragorn asked suddenly. Legolas looked up from his half-bent position, staring at the Gondorian in bemusement.

"I am well." Legolas replied, sounding slightly taken aback at Aragorn's sudden question.

"That is not what I meant."

Legolas gave a sigh, and continued his investigation. Murmuring an apology to the horse, the elf took up on of its hooves to check for any stones. There was a pause before he replied, "Aragorn, speak plainly. I am already tired with Rohan's affairs and I have no wish to pick on riddles." The Gondorian King frowned, but decided to play along.

"How is your sea-longing?" Aragorn asked abruptly.

This time the elf placed Arod's hoof down slowly and straightened. Legolas rubbed the back of his neck as he eyed the stubborn man before him.

"_As well as it could be."_ Legolas replied eventually, switching to his native tongue. He gave a vent of exasperation when Aragorn raised an eyebrow in disbelief. _"Don't do that."_ Legolas snapped irritably. _"You look like Lord Elrond when you do that."_

"_He raised me after all."_

"_He raised you, Aragorn but that doesn't mean that you take on-"_

"_Stop changing the subject, Master Elf! And answer my bloody question!"_

"_Fine!" _Legolas snapped, before drawing in a deep breath. His annoyance disappeared as he breathed. He spoke more softly, _"My sea-longing has caused some trouble as of late. I had not given it much thought when I was on my journey back to my homeland. But once I reached my father's halls, I … Aragorn, I found no peace! Everything in my father's halls were just the way I remembered it. The touch, the smell, the nightly sounds of laughter and singing, and yet it gave me no comfort. I do not say that I have not enjoyed myself when I had returned," _Legolas added when he saw Aragorn's grim look. _"I was just… restless."_

The elf eyed the bucket of water by the door of Arod's stall. _"Every drop of water reminds me of the sea. There is something pulling on the strings of my heart. It is the sort of call that remains with me in the day and then in the night, never resting, and always present. Sometimes, it is bearable and sometimes I barely notice its presence, but other times…" _Legolas trailed off, absently massaging his chest, just above his heart as if it pained him. _"Mind you, I feel neither fear nor pain. I am simply restless."_

"_Does thy father know?" _

"_Not yet." _Legolas replied. _"But I know he will soon. I have rarely kept anything from him and I know he has his own ways of finding secrets."_

"_And you fear his wrath?" _Aragorn asked, frowning. For all the years he had known the elf, he knew Legolas shared a very strong bond with his father. He had never kept anything from Thranduil, no matter how serious. Legolas gave a laugh.

"_His wrath? Nay! I doubt he would be angry with me. Sea-longing is no ailment or any form of disease of the heart. I believe my father had longed to sail, to join my mother beyond these shores, and the only thing that hinders him is me. It would gladden him to know that I am ready to sail."_

And here Aragorn asked the question for which he craved an answer. Switching to Westron, Aragorn asked, "Then why will you not set sail?

"Would you leave, never to return if I was in need?" Legolas asked. Aragorn recoiled at the question.

"Nay I wouldn't." Aragorn replied.

"Then I will not either."

Aragorn smiled. It was enough, at least for now.

"Safe travels, my friend."

"And easy years for you, my brother," Legolas replied.

He brought Arod outside the stable and mounted him. Looking down, the elf smiled at the King before urging his horse into a full gallop out of the city's ruined gates.

oOo

It was a four days uneventful gallop back to Rohan. True, he did meet bandits on the way who were determined to loot him (not that he had anything to be looted) but the elf made a quick work of them. He did have an eventful stay in an inn where people thought he was a… never mind. Suffice to say, Legolas concluded with a grin as he neared Edoras. It was an uneventful ride, and he was anxious to return to Meduseld. Who knows what Éomer had been up to during his absence, Legolas thought grimly. That king needs a constant nanny.

He slowed his horse as he neared the city gates. He looked about, his high spirits slowly falling as his gaze rested on the flower-covered mounds on either side of the pathway. He came to stop at one of them, freshly dug, with the flowers only starting to grow.

"_Theoden, son of Thengel!" _Legolas cried, shifting in his native tongue. _"My apologies to thee, my comrade, for I did not greet you when I came here not more than a week past. I seek to remedy it, for here I am." _Legolas pulled out a dried water lily he had picked from one of the ponds in Gondor. It was beautiful and he preserved it as a tribute. _"A great son of greater fathers, you were, and soon your nephew shall be as well. I will help where I can and where it is needed."_

Murmuring a prayer, he let the water lily drop from his fingers as the flower settled in front of the mound. Legolas urged his horse into a walk. Some mounds later, he stopped at another one. This one was also fresh, but he never knew the sleeping warrior within.

"_Theodred, son of Theoden!" _Legolas said aloud. _"I never knew thee, or seen thee, save for that I learned in songs and in battle-lore of Rohan. And yet I come to greet thee nevertheless. Ye kept your faith in thy cousin, and I will keep my faith in him as well. Rohan will flourish the way ye wish and desired. That I promise you."_

Sighing, Legolas withdrew and rode on to the gates, his horse making clicking noises where his hooves struck stone. As soon as he entered, Legolas dismounted and handed over the reins to a nearby stable hand. Murmuring an order to bring the saddlebags into his rooms, Legolas left quickly and made his way to the Golden Hall.

But when he went up the steps of Meduseld, he came face-to-face with Fion, who was looking grim.

"_What, are you going to welcome me instead of the women of Rohan?"_ Legolas joked. He knew full well that the welcoming ceremony was only done by the women of Meduseld. Fion did not smile.

"_Something serious has happened."_

Legolas sighed. _"Really, Fion. What has happened in my absence that you could not take care of yourself?"_

"_It is Dorián."_ Fion said quietly. _"You will find him in our rooms."_

Legolas looked puzzled at his former mentor's vagueness. Sighing, he decided to humor Fion and Dorián, he went to the rooms to see whatever mischief they had conjured up for him. It was, by no doubt, a jest and Legolas would be baited into it.

Reaching the elves' quarters, Legolas pushed open the door. _"I leave you here for one moment."_ Legolas announced gaily as he entered. He skidded to a halt once he took a look around his surroundings.

There on the bed, lay Dorián, bloodied and unconscious.

* * *

_Important author's note:_

_1. I had three ways of taking the story from Chapter 7 and after much debating I chose this one._

_2. Regarding Aragorn's names, they have all been taken from the book. Aragorn was shown to be well-bred for kingship, but he was not overly fond of titles._

_3. **Important: **For reasons I do not know, my story is shown up as main characters are Legolas and Aragorn. I tried to change that but it is not working. Just for you all to know, this is an Eomer and Legolas friendship story and other characters will appear over time._

_4. I have tested my readers' patience long enough and I have decided to bring (or force) Eomer back into the limelight!_

_5. So how many of you suddenly realized that you actually liked Dorian? :D :D (Don't kill me!)_

_I really, really, really like reviews..._

_Replies to reviews:_

_**cailinbeag**: I hope this answers your question on why Faramir was not in Edoras. But he will be appearing again. And also, wait for Chapter 9 which will answer the issue on Eomer's character. Thank you for being patient with me. :)_

_**brankel1**: I am glad you like it. :)_

_**QueenRexKenobi124**: Hehe, I do the same thing. I did contemplate on the idea of keeping him young in this story, but it did not work out in the coming chapters. So i decided to remain canonic. I am rambling again... Sorry!_

_**emi**: haha, I am glad that Faramir was in character. I spent... what? Two hours, I believe, staring a David Wenham play Faramir, finding out how exactly I would describe Faramir. I am glad that paid off!_

_I didn't know about Legolas' age either. It was not until I was surfing about when I found out myself, lol. _

_So you did pick up on Lothiriel's strand. :D I have to say though, I am terrible at romance, so let us see how I will be taking the entire thing._

_Nah, don't worry, my reply seems to be getting longer too lol. This chapter was supposed to be up two days ago but I caught the seasonal bug (courtesy of my nephew) and I was down for a while._

_Eryn Lasgelen... hmm. never thought about that. Will be revising my chapters for that one!_

_Haha, I am glad you are anticipating the sequel! I didn't think my writing was good enough for someone to ask a sequel, lol._


	9. Chapter 9

_Important Author's Note:_

_Let me explain why I took this approach to the story:_

_1. I wanted to stay true to the title "Over Time, We Are Brothers". Eomer and Legolas' friendship was supposed to have an intense history. I have shown their personalities opposite to one another. I wanted to show their friendship build slowly over time._

_2. I wanted to show Eomer's own leadership skills. He is not a puppet to be used either by his people or by the elves. He can think by himself and he can make decisions on his own too._

_3. I wanted to show the elves' role in the story._

_4. I had shown earlier that Eomer had not been doing his kingly duties and that it was a common knowledge. Therefore, there should be a degree of lawlessness, especially if you have a uncaring monarch._

_5. I wanted to focus just on Eomer and Legolas from now on. Oh, the elves will remain, I assure you but this is Legolas and Eomer friendship story and I wanted to bring them into the light._

_6. I am twisting the story towards the words 'a show of support' as Legolas had said earlier._

_Warning: Story rating has been raised to a T, just to be safe. After roughly Chapter 11, there will no other mentions of violence and the story will resume its light-hearted flow._

~S~

Chapter 9

Legolas approached the bed, his hands shaking in confusion and rage as he reached for his best friend. Dorián was sporting a black eye, and his face was bruised. As he usually did for his men after a skirmish, Legolas assessed the elf's wounds.

Dorián had been beaten, multiple times. Pulling down the sheets that covered his torso, Legolas could see bandages wound firmly about his chest. Legolas pressed his hand down gently. Dorián shifted in his sleep, groaning. Legolas pulled his away. There were three or four broken ribs. Dorián wore no shirt, probably because the extent of his wounds made it hard to clothe the elf. Dorián had been tortured; there were bruisings on both his ankles and wrists, as if he had been restrained. Legolas spotted Dorián's splinted arm. Brow furrowing, Legolas reached out with his hand.

"_Do not touch it!" _The venom in the words made the prince pull back. Looking behind him, he saw Fion standing by the doorway. The veteran hurried towards the bed. _"Forgive me," _Fion apologized. _"His arm is too badly broken. A slightest blow would shatter it completely and he would lose his arm." _Legolas closed his eyes, shaken from what could have happened. Like the others, Dorián was an accomplished Ranger. To lose his arm would mean that he could no longer use his bow, and he could not stay with the Rangers. It would aggrieve Dorián; Ranger life was what the elf loved the most.

"_How did this happen?" _Legolas hissed, not taking his eyes off his friends.

"_It happened yesterday night." _Fion answered. As the veteran watched the prince, Fion casually dropped his hand to the knife hanging from his belt. Legolas, though calm and collected with a streak of mischief, had a fearsome temper similar to his father's when a loved one was endangered. _"There was nothing for us to do, for it was night time and what work there was in Meduseld was completed for the day. Dorián went out into the city for a stroll. He had not asked me, otherwise I would have refused."_

"_Which is probably the reason he did not ask in the first place," _Legolas replied, stroking the wounded elf's head. Fion nodded.

"_That is probably the reason. But I did not notice his absence until it was too late. It was midnight when I realized that Dorián was not with us. We searched Meduseld but quickly realized that he was probably in the city." _Fion swallowed. _"We found five men in an abandoned house, beating him relentlessly. By the time we got to him, Dorián was already unconscious."_

"_But why?" _Legolas asked. _"What had the men had against him?"_

"_We do not have yet to find out. Our main priority was to get Dorián safely out of the house and into the Golden Hall without causing further damage. Éomer was with us when we found Dorián. The young king was white with rage. Is he always hard to reason with in his temper?"_

"_Aye, that would be Éomer."_

"_However, it would seem that the people do not share the sentiments of those who had done this to Dorián. Éomer had a hard time calming his people down. Many were asking for justice. It seems that they remember the sacrifices of our Galadhrim brethren well. Éowyn had grieved, for at first it seemed as if he was-"_

"_Dead." _Legolas finished sharply.

"_Indeed. It was not so when we brought him here and inspected him. He is very weak and he has yet to awaken. But I am sure he will make a full recovery."_

"_Are you sure? These wounds seem very deep and crucial."_

"_Are you questioning my healing skills?"_

"_Do not joke, Fion. My heart cannot bear it at the moment."_

"_I know," _Fion said softly, drawing the younger elf into an embrace. _"I am sorry, little one. I only sought to ease your heart. But I am speaking the truth. The wounds are deep and some are very serious, but Dorián will recover, I assure you. It will be slower than usual, for his body is very weak and he is unconscious but his healing will gain speed once we look after him and he awakens." _Fion assured the Prince, rubbing the elf's back _"Do not worry, my lad. You will see him laughing and prancing about in no time."_

"_You know, I think I am assured by that promise." _Legolas said weakly, pulling free of Fion's hold and bending down to stroke the wounded elf's head.

"_Good, because I am never wrong, youngling," _Fion remarked.

Legolas smiled a little. _"Tell me, where is Éomer? I wish to speak to him."_

"_He is in the outer parts of the city, where the abandoned house is located. He has joined the investigation, I believe. I am surprised he did not waylay you. I had thought he would be the first to approach you." _

"_I would imagine that he wanted me to meet you first." _Legolas looked up in panic when he realized something else. _"Fion! My escort, where are they?"_

"_Peace," _Fion said, laying a hand on the elf's shoulder. _"They are well and unharmed. I believe they are helping the men gather wood for one of their projects. I told them to move about armed by now. They are not defenseless."_

"_Good," _Legolas said, looking relieved. The elf straightened, stretching his muscles that had somewhat stiffened during his ride. _"I should go now and greet Éomer. Do you know where this house is?"_

"_Roughly on the left side of the Golden Hall when you descend the steps," _Fion answered. _"Although, I suppose that if you follow the crowd, you will end up there yourself."_

"_I will leave now. Make sure Dorián is-"_

"_I will."_

"_Thank you."_

Legolas turned to leave, but Fion grabbed his former apprentice firmly and not gently, his eyes boring into the prince's.

"_Legolas, you will remember one thing," _The veteran said, his voice deadly and serious. _"Do __not__, under any circumstances, lose your temper. You are fully aware that you have your father's rage and I know you try to control it, but it appears nevertheless. Do not lose your temper!"_

"_I won't." _Legolas assured him, freeing himself gently from Fion's unrelenting grip.

Fion watched the younger elf leave the room. The veteran shook his head. He knew his apprentice well. Legolas would keep his word but try as he might, he also knew that some things could really break Legolas' patience. He may end up doing something regrettable in his rage.

Shaking his head, Fion's heart grew heavy as he mulled over this dark times.

oOo

"Is this the type of welcome you prepare for me?" Legolas joked when he sighted Éothain standing outside an old, failing building surrounded by a group of men.

"Legolas," Éothain said gravely, his men looking just as grim. "I apologize on the behalf of my men of what has happened to your companion."

"Did you and your men plan this ordeal for my brother-at-arms?" Legolas asked, looking stern.

Éothain was stunned at the notion. He recovered quickly, sputtering out his defense, his men's surprised and angered shouts joining his voice, "Legolas, I would never! This is not the Rohirric way! I-I-"

"Peace," Legolas said raising a hand and smiling. The Riders quieted down, still uncomfortable for being accused. Legolas thumped the man's shoulder. "Then you have nothing to apologize for. We cannot be held accountable for all that happens in our lives. So this is the house?"

"Aye," Éothain said, feeling relieved and grim at the same time.

Legolas stepped back and stared at the house critically. It was an ordinary house, except for the fact that its walls were almost crumbling and he would not trust the roof with his life. But it was ideal. The house was against the inner side of the city wall and it was well secluded for any form of crime to take place within its confines.

"I will have Dorián's head once he gets better." Legolas muttered under his breath to no one in particular, his voice too low for any mortal to hear. "I told him more than once to stick closer to crowded areas outside our forest."

Deciding to get it over with, Legolas entered the house through the broken door.

The air was heavy and dank, smelling musty. Water was accumulated, probably from the previous rains.

"Who owned this house?" Legolas asked curiously, walking on the decayed wooden floor, the torches that Éomer's men had placed serving as sources of light against the darkness.

"A family of no particular interest," Éothain replied, his heavy steps crunching the ruined wood below. "They died some years ago on a journey while visiting a nearby village when a group of orcs attacked. This house remained the way it was after that. Nobody took much care of it."

"In here," Éothain added, shouldering his way past the elf and beckoning him to follow. They moved towards the left, exiting the lounge and entering a small sitting room.

"We- uh- found him here." Éothain said, shifting uncomfortably.

Legolas assessed the room. The couches were decayed, their clothes torn and eaten by rats. The wood had decayed under the action of water from the rains of years past, and what was left was being eaten by termites that swarmed the floor.

What was not destroyed by natural forces was most definitely destroyed by brute force. Signs of a struggle were everywhere. Legolas walked towards a corner, where a broken chair lay on the ground. He bent down and inspected the remains of rope that were still present at its legs and behind the back of the chair. Legolas rubbed his fingers against the rope, noting the dried blood.

Oh, Dorián…

"You could not have heard him in here." Legolas said aloud, getting up and rubbing his hands on his tunic. He tried not to look down at the amount of reddened water pooled about the chair.

"We did not." Éothain confirmed. "But our dogs noticed something was amiss and the elves' blessed hearing had picked up the sounds."

"Hm."

"I shall leave you now." Éothain announced, hastily retreating. Despite the situation, Legolas' lips twitched upwards. Maybe he was just like his father; only Thranduil was able to induce such fear in others when he was at work. (Thranduil would never agree).

Shaking his head to remove wayward thoughts, Legolas looked about the room. He felt sadness envelop his being. Of all the people, it just had to be Dorián…

"I am sorry." Surprised to hear the familiar voice, Legolas' head whipped about. An old man stood by the door, his hair and beard snow white. Solemn blue eyes met the elf's own and despite the man's age, he stood proud and tall and without any support. He was still hale, muscles prominent even under the thick clothing that was there to ward off the cold.

"Gamling!" Legolas exclaimed, recognizing the old man.

"Legolas, my good comrade," Gamling replied, coming forward and greeting the elf.

"Where have you been? I had not seen you when I had arrived more than a week ago."

"I regret to say that I was away, recruiting more lads to be trained as Riders for our éoreds. I returned last night, just in time when Éomer started organizing the search parties."

"You were there?"

"Aye, I was there when we found him. I am so sorry. The people of Edoras are beyond furious. We take great pride in our customs. The hospitalities for our guests and the lives and blood of our guests are forever sacred to us. And to something like this happen underneath our very noses…" Gamling shook his head, looking about the dark room.

"Where is Éomer?" Legolas asked, breaking the silence. "Fion told me I would find him here."

"He is down the street, in the guards' room, giving them a scolding they deserve. Guards have nightly rounds through the streets. They should have noticed a foul play had they been on patrol. Apparently they were not; otherwise this would have been finished before it had even begun."

Gamling hesitated before placing a wrinkled hand on the elf's shoulder. Legolas looked up, his ice-blue eyes meeting Gamling's warm ones.

"I know ye would not like me to say this, but this may be a blessing in disguise."

Legolas raised an eyebrow, encouraging the weathered Rider to continue.

"Éomer has gotten the shock of his life. It has shown him just how much his people need him. It may have been at your companion's cost, but now Éomer has certainly been awoken from whatever dream he had been in before."

"Perhaps," Legolas said, looking at the ruined chair and the blood-encrusted ropes. "But that does not change what almost had happened, or what may result from it."

"Come," Legolas said suddenly. "Let us go and find Éomer. The sight of this room sickens me."

oOo

Gamling and Legolas found Éomer just as he was leaving the guards' room. Éomer's hair was loose in the wind, his cloak resting on his broad shoulders. The young king did not notice that he had company. He was frowning, staring into space.

"Why is it that every time I meet you, you look as if you wish to kill someone?" Legolas called out to him as he and Gamling came closer.

Éomer looked up at the familiar voice. Legolas came to stand in front of him. The elf had apparently just arrived, for his weather-stained clothes were unchanged.

"Forgive me." 'Eomer said immediately.

Legolas raised his hand. "It was not your fault."

"If I had been more alert-"

"It was neither your fault nor Fion's nor mine nor even Dorián's." Legolas said firmly. "I do not blame you." Legolas caught the disbelieving look and added. "Nay, really I do not."

"Why are you so quick in forgiving?"

Legolas sighed and looked behind at him at the house.

"We have seen much horror and sadness in our long lives, Éomer." Legolas said slowly. "And in our youth, we have held many grudges. For example, I had my own misgivings when it came to dwarves and it did nothing more than hinder me. After meeting Gimli, however and having a friendship with him I have come to realize that grudges are only harmful in the end. And Dorián would not want to ruin what we are striving for here in Rohan. So, Éomer, I have nothing against you."

Éomer breathed deeply. This had been weighing heavily on his mind. Legolas spoke again, "However, we would like a proper repayment and a punishment for those who did this. My company will not rest until they get some form of vengeance."

"Nor would the Rohirrim," Gamling added, feeling it was time for him to speak up. "You are not alone her, Master Elf. We have strict laws."

"And then they must be observed." Fion said, coming up.

"Fion!" Legolas exclaimed, aghast. "You should be with Dorián. He shouldn't be alone-"

"Hush." Fion said. "He is not alone. Lady Éowyn suggested that she should sit by Dorián so that I may come down here if I am required. Tell me," Fion said, turning towards the King and the weathered Rider. "What do your laws say in this particular case? What will be the punishment for the condemned?"

"That depends on the actions of condemned." Éomer explained. "If it is an attempted murder, the condemned are executed. If it is torture then the condemned are also tortured- in the same manner as the victim."

"Like for like." Legolas concluded.

"Aye," Éomer affirmed.

"Those are strict laws." Fion murmured.

"That is why our people are checked into discipline and that is our reason for our noble character." Gamling told the veteran.

"How is Master Dorián?" Éomer asked.

"Well, he has multiple bruisings, some more severe than the others, abrasions on his wrists and ankles were the rope chafed him, three broken ribs where he had beaten relentlessly, one broken arm that is broken in two different places." Fion ticked off on his fingers, then suddenly noticed the growing horror on both Éomer and Gamling's faces.

"In other words," Legolas supplied. "He will be just fine."

"What!" Éomer exclaimed in disbelief.

"Nay, really," Fion said, grinning and throwing an arm around his former apprentice. "I assure you, my king, we are made of sterner stuff. Dorián has gone through much more terrible and life-threatening situations."

"Like what, exactly?" Gamling asked, his mind still not understanding how the elves could take such wounds lightly. For a man, it would have been critical!

Fion and Legolas' smiles disappeared.

"Oh, I assure you, there were very dangerous situations. Dorián is my father's elite spy and had infiltrated Dol Guldur many times to find the going-ons of that infernal place. He is no stranger to… torture and pain." Legolas said grimly. "And yet we do not like to remember them. We almost lost him many times."

"Regardless," Fion said, quickly changing the subject. "What matters now is the present."

"On the behalf of my father, we would see a suitable punishment for the condemned." Legolas said, using the word 'we' to show his royal status. "The condemned must be spoken to in efforts to find out their intentions."

"I have yet to speak to them." Éomer said, stroking his beard.

"Do not bother." Éothain spat angrily, coming up to meet them. "I have already spoken to them. Vermin! They are trouble, your majesty. They had no pure intent."

Éomer placed a calming hand on the bristling Rider's shoulder. "Nevertheless, I must go and meet. First, there are some other things that I must look into."

"We will leave you to it." Legolas said. "We have to meet our comrades, for we have just returned from our journey. Fion, do you wish to come with us?"

Fion, on the other hand, was trying hard not to laugh at Legolas' imperious attitude. The prince was easy-going and laid-back, hating titles and shunning royal etiquettes, but when the time came, he pulled off his image to perfection.

"Nay, your highness." Fion said aloud, his voice not showing any trace of his humor. "I believe I am needed by the women of the household. There are still some final touches to do in Meduseld before their project is complete."

"Very well," Legolas said, stepping back. "I take my leave then."

Fion really did keep his face free of a smile.

At least… until he was finally alone to laugh freely.

oOo

Legolas rubbed the back of his neck as he walked towards their rooms. This will be a difficult setting. Had something worse had happened to Dorián, Legolas would have been obliged to tell his father, who would have instantly declared war. He was just relieved that such thing had not occurred.

His grim thoughts were interrupted when he heard loud protests coming from the rooms he shared with the elves. Brow furrowing, Legolas pushed opened the door.

He met quite a sight; Dorián was wide awake and quarrelling with two young maids of which one carried a large tray of food and water.

"What is going on?" Legolas demanded.

"Legolas, you are back!" Dorián said, surprise removing his previous scowl. Legolas ignored his best friend and turned towards the two girls.

"Has he been causing trouble?" Legolas asked, pointing towards the wounded elf.

"His lordship has been very difficult, sir." One of them said in heavily accented Westron. "He would not eat."

"I say," Dorián said indignantly. "I will eat, but I will not be fed by hand!"

"Where is Lady Éowyn?"

"She took her leave once his lordship awoke. She sent us to bring him and feed him his meal."

"_And who gave you the right to say what you like or not like?" _Legolas asked his friend in their native tongue. Without waiting for a reply, Legolas turned towards the girls again, saying cheerfully, "Do not fret, my ladies. He has always been problematic. The poor old fool could not handle being fed until he is forced to be fed. Not to worry," Legolas said, flashing a disarming smile and relieving the maid from her large tray. "I would not have you suffer the incident. Let me take care of him. I am sure I will make him… compliant."

Nodding his head, Legolas made the dismissal clear. The two girls looked at him suspiciously but were still relieved to be free from their duty. Curtsying, they quickly retreated (or perhaps 'fled' would be a better word) from the room.

"And he is not a lord." Legolas called after them.

"Only a Mirkwood Ranger behaving childishly," He muttered under his breath. Then he turned towards Dorián, who had a frown on his youthful face.

"_Now will you eat or not?" _Legolas demanded. _"And don't you dare say that you would rather eat yourself!"_

"_Or what?" _Dorián challenged, feeling sulky.

"_Really, Dorián? __Really__? You would ask me, Legolas Greenleaf that question? Surely, you know well enough by now that I am most creative in my threats!"_

"_Oh, so you think you can threaten me after abandoning us here in this Mannish Hole called Edoras and go skipping off to Gondor!"_

"_I was not skipping off to Gondor!"_

"_Really, Legolas, we were supposed to be __your__ escort! We were supposed to be with you to protect you from harm!"_

"_A fine work you would have done." _Legolas retorted, putting the tray on the bedside table and sitting down on the edge of the bed to glare at the wounded elf. _"Look at yourself. I have been gone for barely a week and you get yourself beaten up!"_

"_I did not ask for this to happen."_

"_You never ask for trouble to happen; you always go looking for it instead!"_

"_This is a fine way to greet each other after being gone for a week!"_

"_Well, I am glad to see you!"_

"_I am glad to see you too!" _Dorián burst out angrily.

For a moment, the two friends glared each other. Legolas had his arms crossed and frowning, Dorián laid back, cheeks flushed from the argument and his lips set in a grim line.

Then Dorián began to chuckle. At that point, Legolas' lower lip quivered.

"_It really is nice to see you." _Legolas said, finally laughing and shaking his head. _"Really, Dorián, can we ever meet after a journey like two normal friends?"_

"_Our friendship would be in danger if we did so, my friend." _Dorián said, trying to stop his chuckles. He shifted uncomfortably, his ribs giving him pain.

"_Hm, but you still have to eat."_

Dorián glared at the prince and then glared at the offending soup. But the prince was persistent and soon Dorián had to admit defeat, and he grudgingly allowed his best friend to feed him. Silence followed once the bowl was empty and the last morsels of bread were eaten. Legolas raised the cup of water to Dorián's lips, which drank deeply. When the Prince placed the cup back on the tray, an awkward silence hung in the air. Finally, Legolas said_, "Guess what had happened in Minas Tirith?"_

_"Aragorn pushed you off the Citadel but your blasted being didn't seem to die?"_

_"Close," _Legolas said, laughing at Dorián's dry humor. _"Guess again."_

_"I do not know anything more enjoyable."_

_"Arwen is expecting."_

Dorián stared up at him, mouth agape in surprise. A moment later he closed his mouth and muttered under his breath. _"What is wrong with the world in this new age?"_

_"You know, I said the same thing."_

The two elves laughed, but Dorián's laughter was abruptly cut off with a groan of pain.

_"Dorián,"_ Legolas asked worriedly when his friend coughed, his left hand pressed against his chest as his ribs jostled with the movement. _"Dorián!"_ Worry turned to growing alarm when the elf started to cough up blood. Legolas watched in panic as his friend's condition went from bad to worse.

_~S~_

_Author's Note:_

_*sniffs*_

_*Phoenix shrinks into a corner as she watches Dorian fade*_

I really like reviews...

Replies to reviews:

1monster2: I am glad you enjoyed it. Yeah, the balcony part is still my favourite so far. :D

WINGFOOT 4: Going, going, lol. Nice to know you are enjoying my story! :D

emi:

As to why, I think I unconsciously did answer your question in the beginning of the chapter. :)

Oh, you read that one! Was it ok?

Yeah, I know. I actually did write a considerable amount but I accidently deleted them. I thought I was cleaning out my scraps. I realized my mistake too late. :P

Haha, Faramir is starting to become my favorite. Let us see if I can pin Eomer just right. If I don't, well, I don't think I will be working with him ever again! :P

Faramir's cloak.. hm.. what to tell and not to tell! Lol, you will find out, though perhaps not soon though. That comes way later. Let us just say that Faramir will unknowingly be saving lives with that cloak of his!

The other approaches from Chapter 7.. hm. let's see. Now these were roughly sketches but I soon realized that problems in each one of them so I left them. (No, none of them had Dorian getting injured!)

1. I could bring Legolas back to Rohan and nothing had happened whilst he was gone. I found it hard to believe and Eomer showed no character development.

2. I could bring Lothiriel into the story and let it be shown as she had brought the healing for the king. This did not work, because Eowyn did not get closure as I wanted her. Also, this approach had already been used and also I am terrible at romance stories.

3. Get help from the elves of Mirkwood. This was working quite well until I realized that Mirkwood was recuperating from the War as well. Also, it did not show any forms of friendship with Gondor as we see canonically. (yes, I am a canonic freak)

4. This was the roughest and the unlikeliest. I could start a campaign against the Dunlendings. But this proved to have the most problems, because canon refused to cooperate. Canonically, Dunlendings made peace with the people of Rohan and proved to have no problems. And also, I had already said that the raids from the Dunlendings were not being expected as Legolas had read them in the reports. And also, I wanted to show healing and trials, not destruction and hopelessness.

Am I even making any sense?


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Legolas had shouted for help the moment he found his voice. Fion, being closer to the rooms, reached first, soon followed by Bregon and Arandur. Èomer had been reading in his room. Èowyn was distributing final chores for the day, only to be disturbed by the prince's shouts for help. The elves had just returned from the storage houses where the cut wood was kept. All of them rushed to their rooms.

_"He can't breathe,"_ Fion muttered, using a knife to cut away the bandages around Dorian's chest. _"Out, Legolas! This will be bloodier than you think!"_

The Elven Prince would have protested, but his company did not give him the time. Arandur, aided by two more elves pushed their prince straight out the door. Bregon, also being a healer, remained inside and locked the door before Legolas could force his way back inside. Arandur and the elves backed away, watching their prince give a cry of rage. Slamming his shoulder against the door, Legolas quickly realized why he cannot force himself inside. Bregon had placed fortifying charms on the door. No one can enter.

"Legolas," Èomer said sternly. He and Èowyn had quickly left when they realized what Bregon was about to do. "Standing here and forcing your way inside would not help Master Fion and Master Bregon in healing Dorian. You may be distracting them."

As much as the elf hated it, the Rohirric made sense. Glancing at the King, his eyes rested on Lady Èowyn who stood beside him. She stood tall and resolute. But her hands protectively about her abdomen showed a degree of fragility.

"Forgive me," Legolas said to Èowyn, thoroughly humbled by the King's censure. "It was wrong of me to lose control."

"Not so," Èowyn protested. "Anyone would have behaved as such if they were in your position."

"You should rest while you are still able, sister." Èomer said.

Èowyn looked annoyed. She hated being coddled, but she relented. "I will, but inform me if there is any change, brother."

Once Èomer satisfied his sister by saying he will, they watched her leave. When the Rohirric King looked back at the elf, shock and fear overtook Èomer and he suddenly stepped back. The light blue eyes, so alive with fun were now smoldering dark blue with rage. "Mark my words, Èomer." Legolas hissed. "If my brother-in-arms dies today, I demand retribution, even if I have to burn down your lands for it!" With those words, the elf turned on his heel and marched away, leaving the Mirkwood Rangers in an awkward silence with the Rohirric king.

"Do not be too harsh on him," One of them said haltingly. "Dorián is dear to him, for he is only five years younger than our prince. They had ever been brothers to one another, experiencing much together."

"It is unlike him to lose his anger." Arandur confirmed. "Our prince had always been quicker to forgive than his father. Where Thranduil King is easy to rouse to rage, our prince has a slower temper, for he keeps a tight rein on it. 'Tis for the first time I see him lose control."

"Both he and his father have a strong sense of loyalty for us," Another by the name of Nimon said."They are fierce protectors of what they love."

"I thank you for your attempts to make amends," Èomer replied. "Let it not be said that I have not been courteous to accept! But your attempts to assure me have shown me the degree of seriousness of the situation. And know that I am willing to make amends! Hear me! If today your friend dies by the wounds that my men have inflicted, then the criminals will face a punishment worse than the one we had originally chosen for them." The Rohirric paused. "Tell your prince this and tell him also, I treasure his company, even when I seem unwilling. Do not break it on this account."

"We will," the Mirkwood rangers reply. "But hear us! His loyalty for his people runs deep, and it will be a while before his heart sets to forgiving."

oOo

It was well into the night when Fion and Bregon emerged. Their faces were haggard and drawn. They walked wearily and sank gratefully into the nearest chairs.

"Well?" Legolas asked with an unveiled impatience.

Fion shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. "His left lung was punctured. It was a small wound, and the bleeding was slow. If we were any later..." Fion's brow furrowed at the thought. Bregon made no comment, instead focused on the steaming gravy and bread that the ladies offered him. Fion continued, "He sleeps peacefully now, for we used our magic to heal his lungs and a little of his ribs. He should heal well from now on but it requires time and gentle handling. His right arm is more seriously broken than we originally thought. A single blow and his arm will shatter, and he will never shoot again." Fion looked where the King was seared. "Had it only been cuts and bruises, I would have kept my silence and forgiven the oafs who did this, but I was close to losing a good soldier and a loyal companion. I want revenge for this, and I am unrelenting until I get what I desire."

Éomer rubbed his face with his hands and looked at the elves. Twelve of them sat before them, with grim faces and eyes alight with emotion, the thirteenth resting, wounded. He said quietly, "I understand your grief and frustration over this incident…"

Legolas cut him off. "Are you daft, Éomer? This could have turned into a war! My friend lies, barely escaping death and here you call us frustrated!"

"Hold your tongue!" Fion roared, glaring at the prince. Legolas glared back, but kept his silence.

Fion sat back, taking a deep breath to come himself. It was the first time in decades he had a serious argument with his former apprentice and he would have to make peace with him later. But not now.

"For now-"

"I understand." Éomer cut Fion off. "We will decide tomorrow what is to be done of the criminals. For now, look after your comrade. He needs his companions beside him."

Éomer looked up at Legolas. The elf did not look his way, his blue eyes darkened with seething rage as it gazed into the fire burning in the hearth. For once, the Rohirrim were reminded that despite the fact that Legolas jested, did not mean that he was not dangerous.

The young king's attention was caught when Gamling shifted in his the seat. The weather Rider shook his head slightly. Now was not the time to apologize or make amends. Emotions were too raw and the elves' fear for their comrade was still very pronounce.

oOo

Sleeping arrangements changed in the elves' rooms. Bregon, Fion and Legolas now stayed in Dorián's room. The rest of the elves distributed themselves into the remaining two rooms. Bregon was exhausted; he could barely keep his eyes open. As soon as he entered the room, he sank into the closest couch and fell asleep.

"_I have to thank him later." _Fion murmured to Legolas, placing a warm blanket on the sleeping elf. _"He was quicker than I was, assessing the situation much quickly."_

"_You must be tired as well." _Legolas said gruffly. _"Take some rest, you would be needing it."_

"_I do not think I can." _Fion said, giving a shaky laugh. _"There was too much excitement for one day. first I almost lost a comrade and then my former apprentice goes head-to-head against a warrior king and nearly starts a war that would have been our undoing."_

Legolas did not reply but went towards Dorián's bed, where he was sleeping peacefully. Fion placed his hands on the younger elf's slim shoulder.

"_You gave me quite a scare, lad." _Fion said softly.

"_I did not mean to." _Legolas replied slowly. _"It seems I am more like my father than I originally thought."_

"_Did you ever doubt it?"_

"_Aye," _Legolas looked away. _"I am not as great, neither as wise."_

"_You undermine your own value, youngling."_

Legolas did not reply. Instead he turned and grabbed his cloak as he left through the main door. Fion shook his head. But the veteran was just as stubborn.

Looking over his shoulder, he called out to the adjoining room, _"Callon, are you awake?"_

"_Do you think I could sleep through the racket you and the prince are creating?" _A powerfully-built elf asked wryly, emerging from the other room, his silver hair wet from a washing.

Fion smiled. _"To keep you awake was precisely the reason why we made the noise, my old friend." _The veteran's smile faded as he gestured towards Dorián. _"Would you take care of him? Legolas needs to unburden his heart and I would do it but I am loath to leave Dorián-"_

"_Say no more." _Callon assured him, settling on a chair near the wounded elf and placing his muscled arms behind his head as he relaxed. _"I would not mind."_

"_I thank you."_

As Fion left, Callon jokingly called out, _"And stop calling my 'old friend'. It makes me feel old."_

"_You are old." _Fion muttered when he closed the door behind him.

oOo

Fion chose the smaller corridors that led to the platforms that surrounded Meduseld. He ended up on the raised floor, just outside the rooms he shared with the other elves. Legolas stood there, his heavy cloak resting upon his shoulders and his braided hair billowing lightly in the breeze.

"_It is cold out here." _Fion said conversationally, pulling his cloak about him and securing it with a brooch.

The veteran's keen eyes did not miss as Legolas' frame stiffened.

Fion sighed and said, _"Legolas, I know that you are worried for Dorián, but you cannot simply let go of your emotions, particularly in this foreign land-"_

"_I know that,"_ Legolas replied tersely. Then he sighed. _"I really do know that." _Legolas added, his voice much softer. _"But we were so close. Had Dorián died, this would have been catastrophic-"_

"_Do not think of it." _Fion said firmly.

"_But my father-"_

"_Do not think of it." _Fion repeated, placing his hand over the younger elf's shoulder and squeezing it. _"Dorián will make a full recovery, I am sure. The elf doesn't stay dead for long; he is too stubborn for it. My guess is that he is probably going to be joking and laughing when he awakens."_

In spite of himself, Legolas chuckled. He leaned against Fion, who immediately enveloped his former apprentice in an embrace. Fion had lost his own son to the orcs of Dol Guldur when his child was at a tender age. When Legolas was apprenticed, Fion had come to think of the prince as his own son.

"_What will you tell Thranduil?" _Fion asked, breaking the silence. Legolas shifted in his arms, his forehead furrowed in thought.

"_I have not decided yet. I fear that my father's wrath will be great if he is ever to find out. He would probably muster the entire Mirkwood army for a war between Elves and Men."_

"_That would not be pleasant. The War of the Ring was dearly bought. It would not do to start yet another." _

"_Let us not think of it, for I have no desire to speak to my father about this as of yet. Let us keep our silence until this issue is solved, but tell the others to keep ready. If for any reason, things do not go well, we must be able to leave swiftly and make for Mirkwood as quickly as possible."_

"_Moving Dorián for such a journey will be difficult and slow, not to mention life-threatening for him."_

"_I know, but we must be ready."_

"_We will discuss this in the morning, when dawn breaks. Dark thoughts are ever darker in the night." _Fion said, sighing and stroking the prince's head. The veteran remembered the War. It was too early for another one.

Their musings were interrupted when Fion said, _"Legolas?"_

"_Hm?"_

"_Silverclaw seems to be quite anxious to meet you. Why?" _

Puzzled, Legolas pulled back, breaking the embrace. He turned his head to where Fion was gesturing. Silverclaw was perched on a horse ornament on one of the pillars, her silver beak gleaming in the moonlight and her claws making sharp clicking noises on the metal horse head. She had tilted her head, turning on beady eye at the prince in a glare.

"_Oh, no! She remembered!" _Legolas said in horror.

"_Remembered what?" _Fion asked in puzzlement. The prince dove behind the veteran, using him as a shield.

"_Legolas, you coward! Get away from me this instant! What are you talking about?"_

"_I promised her that I would write to my father as soon as possible! But in my travel to Gondor and then coming back to find Dorián injured, I completely forgot!" _Silverclaw gave a shrill cry and opened her wings in preparation for flight.

"_It serves you right." _Fion said dryly. _"You should have planned your actions thoroughly instead of focusing only on your instincts."_

"_Now is not the time to comment upon my instincts! Fion, really, if you bear any ounce of love for me-"_

"_I don't."_

"_But, I am your- aaaaaaaaaaaaah!"_

Legolas words were lost as the hawk launched herself on the prince, screaming shrilly as she tried to claw him. Legolas crouched, protecting his face, but Silverclaw nibbled painfully on his knuckles and sunk her claws into his right- and unprotected- shoulder.

Fion, after all the heartache he felt in the day, could not help but laugh.

Behind him, the small door opened, and the elves came pouring outside, their hands reaching for their knives.

Much to his dismay, he noticed that Bregon was at the head, holding aloft his twin knives despite the telltale signs of weariness in his movement.

"_Is everything alright?" _Bregon asked worriedly. _"We heard Legolas' shout and we- ah." _The elf nodded in understanding as he watched his prince prance about comically, the hawk trying hard to latch onto his flesh.

"_He is not shouting." _Arandur murmured, trying to keep a straight face. _"I would compare his voice to a scream at the moment."_

There was a ripple among the Rangers as they chuckled, which soon turned to laughter when they heard Legolas shout out insults and threats.

"_Dratted bird! I should have you- Ai! That hurt, you little, ungrateful- Ai! I should have you boiled and quartered and- that is my arm! Let go of my arm! Aaaaaaaaaaaaah!"_

"_Hush!" _Fion chided, drawing up enough breath to scold his former apprentice. _"You will wake up Dorián!"_

"_He will wake up the entire city at this rate!"_ Arandur said, aghast.

"_Forget the city! He will wake up the dead!" _Nimon commented, tossing his golden hair back from his shoulder. _"Somebody silence him! Caldor, you are the manager of both of our hawks! Call her off!"_

Caldor, who was already tightening layers of leather around his arm guard, grinned. _"I do not know, I think I would not disturb her enjoyment and Legolas seems so-"_

"_Caldor!" _A chorus of voices chided him.

"_Fine!" _The elf snapped and then gave a low whistle. _"Silverclaw! Come here, girl. I promise you, Legolas' flesh will cause your stomach problems and besides, we have need of our prince yet."_

The hawk stilled immediately, one claw embedded in prince' hair and the other still rose to make her blow. She was flapping her wings to keep her balance and Legolas stood comically on one foot ready to run if need be. She turned one beady eye towards Caldor, and made a low whistle as if she was asking a question.

"_Nay," _Caldor answered her, his lips twitching in amusement. _"You cannot claw his hair out. If you do so, he will complain for our entire stay till no end!"_

Silverclaw released her captive somewhat mournfully. She flew down on Caldor's multi-layered leather armguard, crooning softly in delight when the elf scratched a ticklish spot just underneath her wing. Caldor was nice, Caldor would understand.

Legolas reached them, attempting to smooth his hair that was ruined in his tackle with the hawk.

"_Pesky bird,"_ Legolas muttered. Silverclaw went from a harmless bird to a lethal hawk, chirping in indignation.

"_Now, Silverclaw," _Caldor was unable to reason with her. With a cry, she threw herself against the prince, starting her assault anew. This time none of the elves bothered to restrain her, but watched the entertainment (though Legolas did not deem it that way) with amusement.

Once Legolas had been able to shake Silverclaw free with more genuine promises and sincere apologies, he joined the elves in laughter.

After all, life was everything about difficulties and ease.

oOo

Éomer looked out of the window of his bedroom. He knew that the elves were standing on the terrace, their laughter carrying to his room. He envied their light heart which was strong to bear the brunt of time and yet still innocent to enjoy any moment that came in their way. Dorián was out of danger. His recovery will hopefully be full and complete. Yet it was as if there was another burden had been added to the ones the young king carried upon his shoulders. Tomorrow, he will have to make a decision that should satisfy both the elves and his own people. And he had only tonight to make his choice.

Looking up, the young king saw the moon shining down, silver light bathing the sleeping city. Tonight, he will make a decision.

And this time, he could not look to Legolas for advice.

~S~

_Author's note:_

_I am quite satisfied by how this turned out. Finally, I was able to shift it to Eomer's point of view. Well I know I took my sweet time, but hey, an author's got to do what she got to do._

_*dodges flying knives*_

_Easy! Easy! Look, look! Dorian is not dead... yet. (What is that? No, no, no! Put the van down! Put the van down! I was just kidding!)_

_That review button looks a little lonely. Why not press it?_

_Replies to reviews,_

_KnightGhost10287: Hehe, thanks. I enjoyed Dorian's character too. My originals drafts did have him dead, but I soon realized that that would have caused a war. So no, he is not going to die. Lol. It was actually a pain in my heart when I wrote that scene._

_Selective scifi junkie 4: I know, I am so sorry. Am going to correct that but my laptop ids dying at the moment. Next time, I suppose. Thanks for reminding though. I had forgotten!_


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The young king of Rohan sat in front of the fire, his golden-brown eyes staring into the red and yellow flames that so eagerly consumed the fuel he had just placed within it. Éomer sighed and stood up.

Éomer slowly took off his cloak, and sat back down again, placing the heavy cloak across his lap. His fingers traced the sparse embroidery done at the edges of the cloak before shifting to the emblem of the rearing white horse. It was a cloak for royalty, signifying his position as king. To many, it meant fame, prestige and honor. To Éomer it meant duty, responsibility… and burden.

Unbearable to look upon the sight of the rearing white horse, Éomer got up abruptly, and folded the cloak before carefully placing it within the chest at the foot of his bed. He quickly took off his clothes, all of them finely made and marking him as royalty.

Searching within the wardrobe, Éomer was pleased to find his old clothes. These were the type he had worn all his life. He slipped on a white shirt and dark brown breeches, for once relishing the feel of the course cloth. This was what he had known all his life. He was a soldier, a Rider, the third Marshal. He was no king.

And yet, deep inside his heart, he knew he could not shake off the title even when he changed his clothes.

Giving a vent of frustration, Éomer closed the doors of his wardrobe and went for the door. This was his uncle's room, not his. He wanted to go to his own room. Slipping out quietly, the king hoped that he would not meet anyone. He was not in the mood to speak. He just wanted to think.

Choosing the darker and smaller corridors, Éomer made his way through the building. He had heard the elves entering their rooms, and he was happy to know that he would not be meeting Legolas that night. Things were unstable between them, and he had no wish for them to worsen.

He reached his destination. For a moment, Éomer hesitated. Then, placing his hand on the dark brown wood of the door, he pushed it open.

The room was dark, with closed windows. Éomer walked towards the torches that lit the corridor. Pulling one free from its holder, the young king held it aloft as he entered his old room.

It was smaller than the King's Chambers. The furniture was sparse and overall, the room was a modest one. A weapon's stand was pushed against a wall. There was a single bed and a bedside table with it. The sheets covering the bed were drawn back.

Despite not being used, the room was airy but cold due to the lack of fire. Placing the torch in a holder inside the room, Éomer walked up to the windows and opened them.

He had always loved the view that his room provided. He had grown from boyhood gand entered adulthood living in this room. The city stretched out below him, silvered in the moon and the stars like scattered jewels beyond the reach of any king.

"I thought I would find you here."

Éomer did not need to turn around to see who had come.

"You should be sleeping, or resting at the very least."

"How could I sleep when my brother is in doubt?"

Éomer closed his eyes. There was a soft rustle of skirts over the rough stones. Éowyn stepped forward, and encircled her arms around her brother's large frame. Éomer visibly stiffened.

"Do not turn me away?" Éowyn said softly, tightening her grip around her brother. "Let me ease your burden." Éomer gave a bitter laugh.

"Ever had you bore other people's burden," Éomer said bitterly. "Ever had you done for others more than you ever did for yourself. Even now, when you are married and free at last from the bitter memories of this Hall. You should be happy in your married house, not here, trying to hold together a country crumbling to pieces."

"I have plenty of happy memories of this Hall," Éowyn protested lightly, rubbing her hand soothingly over her brother's back.

"Really? What about Grima?"

"Oh Éomer," the White Lady said softly. "That was a different time. Grima is gone and he will trouble us no longer. And my despair came from him only. I have plenty of good memories, brother dearest. Do you remember the time when I had ridden a horse right into the golden Hall?"

That comment was so unexpected that Éomer gave out an eruption of laughter. Éowyn smiled.

"Uncle did get the shock of his life," Éomer chuckled. "Theodred had not even bothered to get the horse back outside of the room, he was laughing so hard."

"And what about the time when you used the cooking pots from the kitchen to-"

"Do not." Éomer said, chuckling. "I am still trying to forget the one."

"Hm," Éowyn said, pulling away slightly to look at her older brother's face. "And let me tell you, Éomer. This country may be crumbling at the moment, but this is your country. We are hard people and we will come through these dark times, unscratched."

"Humph," Éomer replied.

Éowyn was not offended at all by her brother's aloofness. Éomer had always been a private man, preferring to keep his problems to himself. He was strong and aloof, protecting fiercely what he loved. He preferred to have no help, choosing his own muscle and intellect to preserve whatever he possessed.

"Will you not tell me what troubles you, brother?" Éowyn ventured to ask.

Éowyn felt her brother's chest rise against her cheek as he breathed deeply. For a while, he did not speak. The siblings remained in the embrace, enjoying the silence. Éowyn was content, her cheek resting against her brother's chest, Éomer's arms around her and stroking her head slowly as he thought.

After a long silence, Éomer finally asked, "Why does everything take a turn for the worst when things seem to go so well?"

"That is not how it works, dear brother. It only seems that way."

"You are wrong," Éomer's arms tightened around her. "when I thought that you were safe from harm in Meduseld, it was not so. The Worm was there. When we thought the Battle of Pelennor fields was won, it was not so. Theoden died and you-you-"

"Hush," Éowyn said gently, but firmly. "Did not things turn for the better later? You had returned from the banishement and Grima was thrown out of our city, never to return again. Did I not revocer from the despair that haunted me? Did I not find love in the Houses of Healing?"

Éomer made no reply. Éowyn sighed and looked up at her brother. The young king made no eye contact, but gazed out at his city. Edoras was so quiet and peaceful at night. It was as if the War had never happened.

But Éomer knew that in the following morning, his duties will still be there. The pile of reports will still be there on his table. The criminals would still be imprisoned in the dungeons, waiting for the king's decree.

Slowly, the lady reached up with her hand and guided her brother's bearded face towards her till their eyes met.

"You do not have to carry your burden alone." She said quietly. "Will you not tell me your thoughts?"

"You know what troubles me."

"I wish to hear you speak of them nevertheless."

"Stubborn, are you not?"

"I would not be your sister if I were not."

Éomer bit his lip to keep his smile in check. This was so like Éowyn. One should never be fooled by her soft voice and seeming fragility. Hidden deep within her was the rod of steel, unbending and unbreakable.

He pulled back a hand from the embrace, and Éowyn felt her heart break. This was it. Her brother will push her away as he had done so many times since she had come here.

Her sadness turned into a bewildered joy when Éomer rest his hand on her head, stroking the golden locks.

"I was not happy when I had awoken to find Legolas standing in front of me." Éomer confessed. Then he smiled ruefully. "My temper had gotten the best of me at his manner. He was the only one to face me without holding anything back. He was not afraid to tell me exactly what he thought of me. And I had come to admire his nerve once my temper had cleared at the beginning. At first, I had thought, 'How dare he? Did he not know who I was?'"

Éomer chuckled, vibrations going through his chest where Éowyn felt them.

"His methods to make me see reason were quite… unorthodox. But my reservations finished when I realized how much he knew and how well he could manage such matters. He helped me wholeheartedly, despite knowing that I was not the easiest person to speak to."

Éomer fell silent, unconsciously stroking his young sister's head. He spoke with a little more difficulty, "Ever since I had come to the throne, others no longer regarded me as a comrade but rather as a superior. I was no longer a person. Instead I was a king. Advice and counsel were hidden underneath honeyed words. And others simply aimed to please, telling me that the problems will solve on their own. But I know they would not. And each passing day, more problems added over the ones that were already there in the first place.. and when Legolas came," the young King chuckled. "He was unfazed by my position and disregarded all titles that both he and I possessed. Do you understand, my golden flower?" Éomer asked, using the baby name he had kept for her when they had been children. Éowyn smiled at the pet name. When she had been little, the only thing prominent about her was her bright laughter and her mass of golden hair. Éomer had then called her 'golden flower'. "He treated me as a person; he treated me as a Marshal who had unexpectedly became a king. his advice was honest and he challenged me openly. I was able to think clearer than before. it was only one sitting with him but I soon realized that I will need and also welcome, his help."

"Sisters always know what the best is for their brothers." Éowyn said pertly. His brother laughed heartily this time. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sound. She teared when she felt her brother drop a kiss on the top of her head.

"That they do," Éomer commented softly.

"So the next time I do something without your permission, will you accept the help?"

"Do not count on it." Éomer replied immediately.

"Stubborn brother,"

"Stubborn sister."

"I believe it runs in the family."

The siblings chuckled before falling into a companionable silence.

"I was surprised to wake up and find him gone." Éomer continued. "And then you told me that he had left for Gondor. I was content. It gave me the time I needed to get used to the idea of having someone with me for help."

"But then, when everything had settled and I was finally accepting the fact that things were finally looking up-"

Éowyn rubbed her brother's back when he sighed heavily.

"What do I do, my golden flower? Legolas is furious and I do feel as if we have lost the base of the friendship that was forming."

"The elves had assured me that Legolas is not one to stay angry for long." Éowyn assured him. "And try to understand his point of view. From what I gather, Dorián is a high-ranking soldier and the King's personal guard. While Legolas holds enough power to conduct negotiations on his father's behalf, he does not have the power to make any decisions should Dorián have died. It was a difficult position for him as well as for you."

"You do know what could happen, brother?"

"Aye, I do."

Éowyn looked up at him, skeptical. The young king gave a dry laugh.

"Nay, Éowyn. I really do know how it could end. I am not so slow in thinking."

"I did not say you were."

The war was not that worried him, but the chaos that would occur because of it. Rohan is strong, but not so much that it could take on an Elven Army. Rohan would have had to ask the help of Gondor. Aragorn would be duty bound to help Rohan, but since his wife is an elf, he would be duty bound to help the elves. Éowyn would wish to aid her brother but Faramir, taking an oath for the Gondorian King, could not make any decision on his own-

Éowyn was waving her hand lightly over his face. "You thinking too much again." The White Lady protested.

"I apologize." The young king murmured. " 'Tis hard to stop my thoughts once they take a turn."

"What have you decided then?"

"I do not know."

Éowyn sighed deeply. "Tell me what you think, then."

"I do not think you can tolerate such topics in your-"

"Just because I am with child does not mean I cannot listen to my brother's problems." Éowyn commented dryly. "And did I not tell you to stop considering me weak?"

"I do not consider you weak." The young king murmured. "I am just being affectionate." The king rubbed the back of his sister.

"The wounds of the victim are too serious for us to ignore. And a small compensation with money will not work."

"First, because we do not have any and the other is because the case is far too serious," Éowyn said thoughtfully. "What other options do we have?"

"Like for like," Éomer replied. "I would have chosen the same things for the criminals as to what happened to Dorián, each blow for a blow and each bruise for bruise, but-"

"But?" Éowyn prodded.

"Dorián was not as fine as we originally thought. Since his wounds were serious enough to take his life, I believe the trial may end with the execution of the criminals. The other and last choice is banishment."

"I do not think that last choice will bring any satisfaction, either for the elves or for our people."

"I have to speak to the criminals before I make my decisions."

"Are you afraid that you will make the wrong ones?"

"Nay, I am afraid I will not be satisfactory enough."

"Of all the things you have to fear, that is the last one, brother."

"Hm." Éomer replied.

"You should get some rest, brother. Tomorrow will be a long day." Éowyn said, lightly kissing her brother's bearded cheek. She let him go and stepped back.

"Is there anything you need, brother?" The White Lady asked, making for the door.

Éomer slowly moved his fingers through his long and rough beard. Ever since he became a king, he had let his hair and beard grow long. He could be the least bothered, but now it irked him. He wanted to be what he used to be again.

Looking around the room, he remembered everything from the time he was a soldier in training to the time he became a Rider. Then he had become a Marshal before finally accepting the royal cloak. This was his life. It was his choice. He knew he could never be the Marshal he once was. He could nver step back in time, but he could remain the same person he used to be.

"Éowyn, tell Éothain and Gamling to be ready at dawn. We will visit the criminals tomorrow."

"Is that all?"

"Nay," Éomer smiled grimly. "I am going to get my hair and beard cut."

"And Éowyn?"

"Hm?" Éowyn looked back.

"Thank you."

Éowyn smiled softly. "You are always welcome, brother. Never doubt it for a moment."

~S~

_Author's Note:_

_Well, I know it is a comparatively short chapter then the others I had written, but Eowyn deserved sometime with her brother which meant an entire chapter to herself. And I wanted Eomer to finally say good-bye to the life he used to lead. I wanted him to emerge as king and that Legolas and Eomer both maintain an equally strong image._

_Replies to reviews:_

_**missteigne:** I am glad you are enjoying yourself. If you had picked up on those things, then it means I am doing well in the story. Those were the precise things I was focusing on._

_**1monster2**: I am glad you are enjoying it. At first, I thought that Silverclaw part would turn out weird because of the grimness in the chapter. :P_

_**emi:** Yeah, i noticed that you hadn't reviewed which meant you hadn't read the chapter yet. So I thought to surprise you with two chapters, lol._

_-That is a good thing. I noticed people like the idea of imprisoning the criminals more, but I wanted the like for like principle._

_-Haha, I was going to initially, but I found Dorian too sweet for me to ignore. These chapters are painful where he is concerned, lol._

_-No, no, both torture and then death are out of the question. That is too sadistic. I mean, choose one and be done with it, don't you think so?_

_-Haha, I like the hawk too, but did you wonder about the second hawk? :P_

_I would have written a longer reply, but my head hurts like anything, sorry!_

_**Selective scifi junkie:** __Oh, I have seen plenty! :D Lol, the problem is that I do correct them on Word but then I am too lazy to update the corrected versions on to the net. Being an author and trying to beta my own work is hard!_

**_icecoldfairy:_**_ I am glad you are enjoying it. :P_

**_Guest (1): _**_Lol, that is really kind of you! I am glad you enjoyed it and even took the time to review "The Prince, the King and the King". I am glad Legolas turned out well, that was exactyl what I was aiming for, so thank you! As for Theoden and Thengel's grave, I had quite forgotten them both when I had written this story. When I was watching the movie to understand Edoras better, I realised that the graves are on either side of the road, and I thought... whoops. So the graves in my story were a last minute writing!_

**_Guest(2):_**_ I am glad you enjoyed it so far. :)_


	12. Chapter 12

_Author's note:_

_Thank you for the overwhelming support my readers have shown for this story. :)_

_Here is a challenge: If this story exceeds a 100 reviews, I will post a one-shot as a treat, which features the elves of Mirkwood._

~S~

Chapter 12

Fion slipped his hands behind his back, clasped and his legs apart. He balanced himself on the thatched roof of Medulseld, his feet resting on the wooden beams that made up the frame of the roof. The sky turned from golden to light blue as the sun fully rose above the horizon. He closed his eyes, relishing the feel of the cold and yet slightly warm air that breezed past him, playing with his braids.

Sighing, the veteran opened his silver-grey eyes and came closer to the edge of the roof. A new morning meant a new day and this meant the final decision for Dorián's case.

Kneeling down, he grabbed the curved edge of the roof. He swung down and glided straight through the window below him, his feet touching the stone floor of the room he jumped into. Dorián still slept peacefully on the bed. Bregon had awoken sometime earlier and chose to break his fast along with the other elves in the Golden Hall.

The elf went over to the large bed and pressed his two fingers against Dorián's neck. He was satisfied to feel a steady heartbeat. That was the main thing and vital for an elf to recover quickly as possible. It also increased his chances to move the wounded elf, should the situation worsen in Edoras.

"Psst."

Fion tensed immediately. Straightening, the veteran reached to his back instinctively and pulled out his dual knives.

"Fion, over here."

Fion frowned. That sounded like no intruder. That sounded like-

"Legolas?"

"One and only."

"But where-"

Dropping down, Fion brought his head to the stones and surveyed the floor. Sure enough, a dark figure was curled underneath one of the couches that were pushed against the wall.

How Legolas had managed to squeeze into such a narrow place, Fion would never know. He had effectively curled over himself, and used his cloak so that not a single body part showed.

_"Legolas, my child, get out from under there!" _Fion cried, slipping into his native tongue in his astonishment.

_"Will not." _Legolas said stoutly, voice muffled under the cloak.

_"You must certainly will! Otherwise, I will come to get you out!"_

_"You will have to come in here, then. Nay! I will not come out until you get rid of her."_

A tip of Legolas' finger appeared from underneath the cloak and pointed. Fion' followed the finger's direction until his eyes rested on Silverclaw, who was perched on one of the taller candle holders. The hawk looked more like a vulture as she gazed at her prey's dark form hidden underneath the couch, a hungry gleam in her eye.

_"Ai,"_ Fion mumbled, getting up and dusting off his breeches.

_"I have just about enough of you." _Fion said to the hawk. _"I know you consider yourself better since Thranduil has taken a liking to you and trained you himself but I will have you know that I neither have his patience or his goodwill. So get out before I place a flame underneath your tail!"_

Silverclaw gave an angry hoot. Fion frowned, his dark brows coming together.

_"Oh, I assure you, I am most serious. I will carry out my threat twice as quicker than it takes you to remove a stray feather! Now, out!"_

Fion's last words thundered in the room, causing the hawk to cry in panic and fly straight out of the room.

_"And stay out." _Fion muttered under his breath. He heard a mild chuckle from behind him.

_"You certainly have a way with hawks." _Legolas said, coming out from under the couch and removing his cloak from himself.

_"I pride myself in it." _Fion replied, his lips twitching upwards. Not a week ago he had said the same thing to Legolas when he referred to the children.

Fion's smile faded as he gestured towards Dorián.

_"He has still not awoken." _He said.

_"Give him time." _Legolas replied, squeezing the veteran's muscled shoulder. _"He will awaken. At the very least he is sleeping without trouble."_

_"Hm, what of our precautionary steps?"_

Legolas' brow furrowed in thought.

_"Tell the other elves to pack as many things as possible. We need to be as ready as we could be. See if you can exercise the horses and make sure they are ready."_

_"And moving Dorián-"_

_"Will not be easy," _Legolas finished, rubbing the back of his neck as he sighed. _"See if you can buy some flat wooden beams to make a litter. Keep it as discrete as you can but do not worry if it comes out in the open. I will handle it if it does. Mind you," _Legolas added. _"This is all still in spoken manner. All of our cautions may be all for naught but-"_

_"Being prepared is better than not to be prepared." _Fion finished. _"I understand."_

_"I thought you would."_

_"Silverclaw is quite fond of you."_

_"Tell that to my wounded shoulder."_

_"I cannot. Your shoulder would not reply back." _Legolas smirked.

_"Now who is talking nonsense?"_

_"You started it." _Fion retorted.

The banter would have gone on for hours had they not heard a discrete knock on the door.

"Enter," Legolas called, expecting servants. He was surprised to see the opposite.

"Lady Éowyn?" Legolas said, taken aback. "What brings you here?"

Fion moved to offer a chair for the lady if it were not for her quiet command.

"Stay. I am not here as a guest."

Legolas raised a brow in question. Éowyn went back to the door, her wide sleeves trailing behind her as she beckoned the servants to enter, bearing large basins of steaming water and numerous washcloths.

"I had thought that Lord Dorián-"

"He is not a lord." Fion muttered underneath his breath, his voice too low for the lady to catch.

"-would need a proper washing. We had not been able to tend to him when his wound were dressed and it would be best to do it now." The lady explained, dismissing the servants with a quick wave of her hand.

"My lady, that is a kind offer but you have dismissed the servants." Legolas pointed out.

"Ah, I believe I had not explained myself clearly. I would help in tending to him."

"But my lady…" Legolas trailed off. Dorián's wounds were too serious. For a lady to see them…

Éowyn had guessed his thoughts.

"I am not a stranger to wounds, Prince." Éowyn said softly. "You forget that I have led this household since I had come of age. I tended to wounds of my uncle, cousin and brother as well as strange warriors. I know how to unbind and bind bandages and I know full well to look after the wounded."

"We are thankful for your help and we accept." Fion intervened before Legolas could speak.

Legolas looked at his former mentor and frowned. But he knew the reason behind Fion's acceptance. The Mirkwood Rangers, though well-versed in healing were still warriors first. Their hands were used to rougher work, not something as gentl as healing. And Éowyn was more experienced in that matter.

What was more, the elves trusted her more than they trusted the servants or any other for that matter.

"But I would insist on not touching his right arm. I fear it is in danger if not handled properly. I will tend to it myself." Fion commented.

"We will leave that to you then." Éowyn replied.

"I am going to join the elves in the hall. Do you need me here or-"

"We can manage." Legolas assured him. The Prince drew back his sleeves till his elbows.

_"Besides," _Fion added with amusement as he made for the door. _"Maybe Dorián would wake up faster if a beautiful maiden tends to him."_

_"Oh, go and break your fast." _Legolas snapped, earning himself a chuckle from Fion as he left.

Turning back, he was astonished to see Éowyn's lips twitch in mirth.

"You understood us?" Legolas asked in horror.

"Indeed, I did."

"But-but-"

"My uncle," Éowyn explained, rolling back her sleeves till her elbows as she laughed. "He made sure we learn Sindarin if there came a need to know the Elven Language. I admit I cannot speak it rather well but I can read and understand it when it is spoken."

"Forgive us," Legolas stammered, not knowing what to say. "Fion can be a little-"

"Peace." Éowyn commanded, amused. "I am not offended. Although, I must admit, my heart will be glad if your friend awakens. He is very dear to you and your comrades it seems."

"He is. These bandages must be taken off."

"Here," Éowyn handed him a knife. "We will be disposing of them anyway. We might as well tear them apart and cause Dorián less discomfort. Tell me," She added, cleanly making the cut through the cloth binding about the wounded elf's chest. "What is his rank among your kind?"

Legolas eyed his best friend before getting to work. He promised silently that he will tell Dorián how Éowyn had come to help. If he knew his old friend, his embarrassment would be great. Legolas grinned. Now that would be fun.

"He is belongs to my father's personal guard, though he was trained as a Ranger. Take out the remains of the bandages from uner him while I support his back."

Éowyn did as Legolas told her and dropped the used bindings in a basket.

"I am afraid I do not quite follow."

"Then let me explain from the beginning. Each Ranger can take up two apprentices at one time. Dorián and I were both trained by Fion. However, Fion soon recognized that Dorián showed uncanny ability in stealth and concealment. He was natural at it and it came to him easily. Éowyn, careful! That area is quite tender."

Éowyn's hands stilled their work just above the left part of Dorián chest. "My apologies, I had not known."

"No matter," Legolas answered before continuing, "My father became interested when Dorián was able to best well-known Rangers in concealment. We were both quiet young at the time. Soon, my father told Fion to train him by focusing on his talents more. Ah, Éowyn, we are more modest than the race of Men." Legolas added, heat rising in his cheeks.

Éowyn immediately dropped the blanket that she had been pulling back as she worked and withdrew. "Forgive me, I did not realize."

"No matter," Legolas managed to get out. "Why do you not start with his head and let me take care of-"

"Of course." Éowyn replied.

For a moment, Legolas pulled back, watching the White Lady as she gently raised the wounded elf's head. She murmured soft words when Dorián stirred, quickly replacing his pillow with a small, shallow basin. She rested Dorián's head at the edge of the basin, the neck placed effectively on a folded washcloth. She trickled water slowly in the elf's fair hair, working gently at the tangles.

"you have done this many times, haven't you?" Legolas asked quietly, watching her work with an ease that could only come through practice.

"Too many times for my comfort," Éowyn confessed, her pleasant expression disappearing momentarily at the dark memories. "We have suffered our share of battles."

"Hm, so have we."

"Éomer said that you had mentioned that this was not the first time Dorián was seriously injured."

"Éowyn, please-"

"Tell me." There was a hint of steel in her voice. He noted a trace of stubbornness. Legolas looked up at her with a mixture of humor and exasperation.

"I had been wondering when you would show your streak of stubbornness."

"Do not avoid the question."

"There it is again."

"My lord!"

"Very well, very well," Legolas responded. "But truly, it is not a tale for a lady-"

"You are talking to a shield maiden. I suggest you would not forget that." Éowyn said through gritted teeth. Despite her annoyance, her fingers were still gentle as she rubbed Dorián hair dry and removed the wash basin, placing it on the bedside table.

She quickly picked up another and balanced it at the edge of the bed. Dipping a cloth in, she wrung it and dabbed the damp cloth gently around Dorián's bruised face.

Legolas picked up a wash basin and settled it on his side of the bed, and followed Éowyn's example. He twisted the damp cloth around his hand, covering it completely and let it go under the covers. The elves were a modest race, generally shy of their bodies. They respected one another, and so even in the case of washing the wounded, they kept the blankets over the body and washed from underneath it.

"Dol Guldur, the enemy's fortress was at the edge of our forest." Legolas spoke after a pause. Éowyn's ire lessened slightly when she heard the elf begin. "my father had constantly been worried about the enemy's plans. Dorián and some other elves had discovered underground tunnels and pathways directly under Dol Guldur. It had been built as an escape for the orcs and the other foul things that lived in that dark fortress but they were crumbling and old. Few dared to venture into it and among those was Dorián. He quickly mastered going in and out of the fortress without being seen and soon became my father's closest and most reliable informants."

"He was captured six times."

Legolas' hands shook slightly. "The first five times was during the first War of the Ring, when the Rings of Power were wrought anew. Each time Dorián either narrowly escaped or we infiltrated the fortress to get him out. The six time was in this War. Dorián had been retreated through one of the underground tunnels when it had suddenly collapsed on him. The tunnels were old and so it came as no surprise. Unfortunately it was the orcs of Dol Guldur who pulled him not. After that-" Legolas blinked. "Well, as I had said; he is no stranger to torture and pain. To my father, it came as mockery. For the orcs knew Dorián well, and used him to mock us, to draw fear in us. But it only roused my people's rage and hatred. In the end, my father and his army marched to Dol Guldur, where Lady Galadriel threw down its walls and laid bare its pits. Fion was amongst those who pulled Dorián out of debris."

"And yet he still jokes and plays." Éowyn murmured, finishing her side of work.

"My people learned long ago; grief makes only the coming years more painful to live. 'Tis better to show joy when the times are good and weep when the times are dark."

"And there is the wisdom that most people forget."

"Wisdom? Nay, I would call it innocence."

"And yet innocence is considered to be a part of wisdom."

"Enough heavy talk," Legolas said, laughing. "really, my lady. You speak to one who is still considered young among his people. I admit I do not have much patience for such chatter. I had forgotten to tell you that your husband sends his regards to you."

"You met Faramir!"

"Indeed, I did."

"What did he say?"

"He gave me some letters that are in your name." Legolas put down his cloth, resting it on the tip of the wash basin as he picked it up and placed it on the floor, where the servants would collect it later.

"Will you give them to me?"

"I seem to have forgotten where they are." Legolas said mischievously. He walked over to where his saddlebags were, still unpacked and knelt, treacherously moving his hands about in a pretended attempt to find the letters.

"My lord, please!"

"Oh dear, I think I have left them back at Gondor."

"Legolas!"

"Finally, she says my name." Legolas told the candle holder that stood just at the side where he was kneeling. "Here they are."

Éowyn gave a cry of joy as she took the bundle of letters that were tied together with a piece of string. Legolas smiled at her apperant joy and got up

"I thank you." The White Lady said, suddenly hugging the elf. Legolas stumbled back at the force, laughing in surprise. "You are always welcome, my lady."

"I must go. It has been so long since I heard of him. Forgive me for my abrupt exit but I am feeling so impatient. I will send someone to clear away the basins and the cloths." She was babbling in her joy and both knew it but Legolas understood well.

"A moment of your time," Legolas said, gently stopping the lady before she left. "Tell me if your brother is awake. I wish to speak to him about Dorián's case."

"He has been up since dawn." Éowyn said, noting the surprise on the elf's face. "He had already left to question the criminals. He apologizes and said that he may come a little late."

Legolas raised a brow in surprise as Éowyn smiled and left.

Hm, maybe his stay in Rohan would not be as tedious as he first thought.

oOo

At dawn, Éothain and Gamling dutifully appeared as they were commanded in the King's Chambers to get the shock of their lives.

"Do mine eyes deceive me?" Éothain asked in astonishment, taking in Éomer's new appearance. "Has our mad king finally seen sense?"

"I am just glad I can actually see my king, for once." Gamling muttered, eyeing the trimmed beard and the neat haircut.

"Funny," Éomer murmured, straightening his clothes. "But I am not laughing."

"Well," Éothain commented, finally overcoming his surprise. "At the very least, Legolas will not call you a vagabond again."

"He said that?" Éomer asked, whipping his head as his hands hooked his sheathed sword on his belt with practiced ease.

"Aye, before he left for Gondor." Éothain said. The Rider frowned before adding, "Actually, he called you a royal vagabond."

Éomer grimaced. "I should be furious, but I believe I earned it."

"Aye, you did." Gamling confirmed with vehemence. "Your behavior was astounding, lad! But are you ready? We must go to the criminals now."

Nodding his head, Éomer said, "Aye, let us go."

"Let us hope we catch them while they are still asleep. I would love to ruin their slumber." Éothain muttered darkly, holding the door open to allow Éomer and Gamling pass through.

They entered and left the corridor quickly. None of them had any wish to linger and meet the elves so early in the morning. Leaving a message with Lady Winflead for Legolas should he ask after the king, the trio exited the Golden Hall and made their way down into the city.

Originally, the dungeons were present underneath Meduseld, but the impracticality of it made the ancient kings build new dungeons at the outer side of the city, just inside the city wall. The dungeons were heavily guarded, situated between two guard's rooms that were swarming with City Guards.

Many people bowed their heads as their king walked past them. Many of them even turned their heads in astonishment. Éomer had commanded great repsect among the people and he was well-loved, but his fall from the kingly duties had spread wild and many of those people were giving into despair at the thought of a loose king on the throne. It came as a pleasant surprise when they saw him, walking proudly with his head held high, dressed as the warrior king he was.

"Well done." Gamling murmured.

"On what?" Éomer replied back, his voice just as low as he flashed a smile at the passing guards and people.

"You have shown some strength in coming out into the city. Your people needed you and now you have given yourself to them. Rohan will be able to recuperate faster if her king takes an active role."

"And that is precisely what I intend to do." Éomer commented.

The trio stopped when they reached their destination. Éomer looked at the building with a strange sense of determination rising in his chest. He was ready for this. He can make the same decisions as his uncle. He will be the king he needs to be.

"Let us get this over and done with."

~S~

_Author's note:_

_My sincerest apologies for those who were waiting for the update. I had a laser treatment of the eyes which made it painful for me to look at any electronic screen. I may not be able to update again this week because I have another session of it coming up, and let me tell you; it hurts._

_Eowyn tending to Dorian was an idea that came from the book when she bitterly told Aragorn that her duty was ever to tend to men and their beds and food when they returned from battle. That probably meant that she had looked after the wounded as well._

_A little bit of fluff here, not really looking into the main plotline but I felt that the elves should be also shown such that they too had gone through the grimness of the War. Considering their immortality, I think they knew the horrors of war only too well._

_Replies to reviews:_

_I am sorry, my eyes pain a little too much to post replies here. My sincerest apologies. I know it is rude since you guys took so much time out to review, but this brightness of this screen is a little unbearable at the moment._

_I will try to reply in the next chapter. :)_


	13. Chapter 13

_Important Author's Note:_

_There are two things that you will NOT see in this chapter._

_1. Intorregation._

_2. Execution._

_Why?_

_Because this story is still meant to remain as mild as possible. I find that bloody descriptions and such were taking away the element of my story. And it is about justice and Eomer's return, not about blood__shed._

_So poke me. I dare you. xD_

~S~

Chapter 13

It was noon when Legolas heard that Éomer, Éothain and Gamling were making back from the dungeons. He had left his rooms immediately, flanked by Bregon and Fion on either side.

His curiosity was great; he had heard from the whispers of servants, speaking of their king with a mixture of awe and respect. Some great change had occurred, and the elf was curious to see it.

Éomer was surrounded by a crowd of Riders when he and the two elves entered the room.

"So the rumors were true." Legolas remarked, his voice carrying. Éomer looked at his direction, noting the formal uniforms that the Elven Prince and the other two elves wore. Legolas walked up and eyed him critically. "You look well."

"As do you," Éomer returned. Legolas hid his surprise. That was the voice and demeanor he knew.

Éomer nudged his way out of the group. Taking the elf by the shoulder, Éomer led him away where he and the elf could speak in peace.

"They meant him harm." Éomer told the elf. "They had no care of how far they were going, and that accounts for attempted murder."

"But why would they attack in the first place?"

Éomer shrugged. "It was a sport to them. Elves were always considered a higher race, and they enjoyed the fact that one of them could be snared so easily in their trap. You are not going to fight me again, are you?" Éomer asked, noting the tense shoulders.

"Nay, I will not. Please, continue."

"What was more disturbing was the fact that they expected not to be punished for it. In their minds, I was a weak king, a king who would probably pat their backs for their 'bravery'. It seems I had been more lax than I originally thought. For this reason, one of your companions had to suffer." Éomer truly sounded regrettable, his face showing his genuine guilt.

"If it helps," Éomer added as an afterthought. "Éothain was incensed. He could not resist punching one of them in the face when he had gotten too cocky."

Legolas glanced at the young king with an unreadable expression.

"What do you intend to do?"

"Why, carry out the law, of course. It has been ruled out as attempted murder, and the price of it is execution. What I wanted to know was, when do you wish to keep it?"

"Today," Legolas replied.

"This soon?"

"Aye," Legolas confirmed. "Let us get this over and done with. Every passing day drives a wedge into the friendship between my escort and your Riders. To wait will only cause more damage. And unless I am mistaken, the people of Edoras are restless. It would be best to lay this matter to rest as soon as possible. Unless of course," Legolas added. "It would take you a while to prepare for the execution. I know nothing of your Mannish customs."

"The Eorlingas are simple folk, and our laws are simple. I will get Éothian to sharpen his sword."

"That should please him."

"Hm, he had been asking my permission to beat the condemned into pulp ever since we had secured them in the dungeons. We will be ready at noon." Raising his voice, Éomer called. "Éothain!"

"My lord?"

"Declare the fate of the condemned to Edoras and prepare for an execution that will commence in the evening."

Éothain smiled but the smile did not reach his eyes.

"It will be done, my lord."

oOo

Legolas had gathered his entire escort to attend the execution. He had wanted them to attend in order to remove any lingering resentments that they may have for the Men. Their only hatred should be reserved for those who had done this to Dorián and not for the entire Race of Men.

Éomer had ordered it to occur outside the walls of the city.

"There is no need for the women and children to witness this." He had said. "They have seen too much war and death."

"May I ask why this execution is done immediately?" Fion murmured in Legolas' ear.

"Do you not see how our friendship has been affected with Éomer's people?" Legolas asked back and then hurried to explain. "The Riders have become wary of us, and I wish to let our friendship form again as we will still be staying here for a while still. Also, the people of Rohan are restless. For too long, did they tolerate a lax king. if Éomer takes a decision swiftly and has it carried out immediately, it will improve his standing among his people and let him regain some of the respect he has lost. What is more, I wish to have this over and done with before Dorián awakens. It would be too cruel if he awakens only to find that those criminals were still awaiting their trial."

"A wise choice, then," Fion concluded, signaling the elven escort to follow them outside the city gates.

And as the sun set slowly, the rays of purple and pink mixing in the sky, the five men were led outside the gates.

Legolas could really see no difference between those men and Éomer's own men, who were honest and honorable. They were the same height and build, with typical fair beards and hair that marked them as Rohirrim. But Legolas could see the shock and disbelief on their faces. They had not expected this outcome, but the five men accepted it when they knew there was no other choice.

And as Éothain called out the names of the condemned and their crimes, the elves could really not care less. Elves had never really concerned themselves over the Race of Men, the wood-elves of Eryn Lasgelen in particular. So the execution passed in a daze, as the elves looked on with faces schooled in distant coolness.

When it was done, and the men set about to cleaning up the remains, Éomer looked a little relieved. One important step was done. And now he was left with only the problems that had plagued him for months.

When they were assured by Éothain that the situation was well-handled, Éomer and the elves trudged back to the city. Legolas noticed the people milling about on either side of the street that led to the Golden Hall. Whispers of a strong king passed from one pair of lips to another. And for once, the people of Rohan knew that their late King Theoden had made a good choice by appointing Éomer as his heir.

The elves took their leave from Éomer, who waved them away distractedly.

"_Those were excitable few days."_ Fion commented, shrugging off his cloak once they entered their rooms.

"_Indeed,"_ Legolas murmured.

"_If I may be so bold, I am glad this is over." _Bregon said. _"This incident had ruined our mutual trust with the Riders but hopefully not to the point of no return."_

Legolas said nothing and looked outside. The evening was rapidly turning into night. The warmth in the air was the only indication as of yet for the coming summer.

"Come," Legolas said, unknowingly speaking in Westron. "Let us prepare ourselves for supper and then we must retire. Today has been a very eventful day."

As he turned, he caught the sight of the satchel that contained the rolled maps and documents of Gondor.

Whatever the case, he will do what needs to be done and he will help where it is needed.

oOo

He had been drifting off to what he knew was going to be a wonderful sleep when he suddenly jerked awake from the sound of the door opening. Éomer groaned. He knew who it was.

"Can this not wait until morning?" he mumbled in his sheets. He heard a light chuckle.

"I am afraid not, Master Éomer. We have already wasted good two days, and Aragorn is waiting for a reply."

"The heavens deliver me from pesky, meddling elves." Éomer groaned, shifting slightly and rubbing his eyes. He watched with bleary eyes as Legolas lit candles on either side of the bed. "What time is it?"

"Somewhere near midnight, I believe."

Éomer let out another groan. His groan turned into a pained one when Legolas prodded him in between his ribs, making him shift to one side of the bed to make room for the elf.

"I will not be able to get rid of you until I hear what you have to say, eh?" He heard a soft chuckle come from the elf.

"Nay, you will not."

Éomer sat up and pushed back the covers. "Very well, I might as well be done with it."

"I apologize." Legolas said softly. "But we are wasting our time. And I assure you, you would only need to listen to what had occurred when I went to Gondor."

Éomer waved his apology aside. "Considering the fact that you had to bear with me during the War of the Ring and on your stay here, I think disturbing my wonderful sleep would be the least of my troubles. Go ahead. I am listening."

The elf placed the satchel on the bed and pulled out the maps and the lists that Aragorn had given him. He explained the entire plan, including the role of Dol Amroth, Lady Lothíriel. He showed him the map that contained the possible supply routes, each of the pathways neatly drawn out in burgundy ink in Faramir's hand. Éomer listened with a queer expression and eyed the list in Aragorn's handwriting.

"What?" Legolas finally asked, pausing in between when he just noticed Éomer's look.

The young king stroked his beard as he surveyed the strewn papers on his bed.

"You certainly gave your heart to this project." Éomer said slowly. "When you had spoken of aid, I had not realized the extent of your help. But you did not spare anything for Rohan." Éomer paused, looking over the documents again. "I thank you. You had done more than half of my work already. You needn't try to do more. I would not have you work with me against your will."

"Did it not occur to you that I may have wanted to help?"

"Even after all that the misunderstandings and the trials?"

"Even then."

"Why?"

Legolas considered the question as he lay back against the pillows.

"Do you remember the time when we stood outside the Black Gates?"

"I try not to." Éomer replied wryly.

"I am being serious."

"I do not think anyone could forget that experience in a hurry." Éomer said quietly.

"You saved my life then."

"Nay, I did not." Éomer replied gruffly.

"Do not lie to me."

Éomer tilted his head to look at the elf lying beside him. Legolas' cool blue eyes met his, and in them he read a challenge. Legolas was daring him to lie.

Éomer sighed.

"So what if I did?"

Both of them were too proud to admit it. In the heat of a battle, anything could go wrong. It is when chaos is at its peak. It was the time when one had to be aware the most. And at that time, death could come when it is not foreseen…

oOo

_At the Black Gates,_

_The Last Battle._

_Legolas brought his knives towards each other, locking the orc's neck between the two blades. Without giving it much thought, he wrenched the knives close, beheading the orc. He did not bother over the body, but turned swiftly and stabbed another enemy that came from behind._

_Then he let himself work on instinct. He fought blindly, his mind unconsciously identifying his enemies and friends as his eyes set on one person then the next._

_It was only when his eyes rested on Aragorn that he became breathless._

_Aragorn was killing orcs right and left, his red cloak billowing about him as he ducked and dodged incoming blowes. But behind the Heir of Isildur and towering above him, was a troll._

"_Aragorn," Legolas cried, fighting desperately to reach his best friend._

_You will not die on me…_

_Aragorn turned and looked up. And charged._

"_Aragorn!" His cries were desperate, as he tried to shove his way through. Some of the orcs gave him the unwanted attention and tried to stop him. Legolas uttered a dwarvish oath he kindly burrowed from Gimli and downed his new foes._

_By the time he looked up and watched his friend fight as hopeless battle with the troll, he knew he will never reach the man in time. He pulled out his bow and fitted an arrow into it, all the while shouting out to his friend and keeping him in sight._

_Hold on…_

_But as he raised his bow, he felt a piercing pain in his back when an orc stabbed him from behind, catching him at unawares. He fell to the ground. He only had a brief memory of someone supporting his weight._

"_Aragorn…" Legolas asked, loathing the fact that his voice was hoarse, the fact that the pain clouded his vision._

"_Safe," answered a gruff, accented voice. Legolas blinked enough to see a helmed face, the white horsetail flowing over the man's shoulder. "You showed great loyalty by running to your friend's aid, Master Elf. But I must advice you to take rest while you still can, before Aragorn comes to check on you."_

_Legolas did hear the entire sentence before he fell unconscious._

_When the elf awoke, Estel had told him the Éomer had kept him safe while he was wounded. The Rohirric King had fought madly to keep the orcs at bay when the buildings of Mordor collapsed as the Ring melted into common gold in the fires of Mount had also told him that had the orc made a second blow, Legolas would have ended up in a state worse than Haldir's in the Battle of Helm's Deep. He would not have survived. _

_He had wanted to speak to the Rohirric after that, but Éomer had kept his distance and he had never raised it up._

_But Legolas, in his heart, made a vow to help where he could after that day._

oOo

"Why did you not speak of it?" Legolas asked after a silence.

"You are slightly intimidating."

"Stop joking!"

" 'Tis true." Éomer protested. "I admit I was not overly fond of the idea of speaking to you after our fateful first encounter but as time passed I thought it would be wise to do so. However, whenever I approached you, you looked like you would rather feed me to the dogs than listen to what I had to say."

"A fine conclusion you had wrought out about me." Legolas said, sounding annoyed. "Master Sluggard! I seem to recall you were the grim one whose blasted pride kept you from saying anything."

Éomer could not believe his ears.

"So the only reason we did not reach peace was because of our mistaken regards for one another?" he asked in disbelief.

Legolas stopped to consider it.

" 'Tis seems so." Legolas said thoughtfully.

The elf and the man sighed audibly and shifted to be more comfortable. Then, golden-brown eyes met blue ones and the two burst out laughing.

"Do not tell the dwarf about this." Legolas said, shaking his head. "He will have my head and I will never hear the end of this."

"Do not tell my sister." Éomer bargained. "She will not hesitate in exposing one more of my stubborn ways to Middle-Earth."

"You have yourself a bargain." They fell into a comfortable lull.

"Legolas?" Éomer asked tentatively.

"Hm."

"If this turned out for the worst-"

"If you think like that, I will throw you not in a bath tub full of cold water but rather in a pile of horse dung, so the Valar help me."

"I knew it."

oOo

"_Where have you been?" _FIon demanded when Legolas entered the rooms.

"_Nice to see you too." _Legolas commented mildly.

"_I am not pleased to see you at all." _Fion snarled. _"Where have you been?"_

"_With the King discussing State Affairs," _Legolas answered, unbraiding his hair. He picked up a combn from the mantelpiece above the fireplace and ran it through his long, fair locks. The timing may have been terrible but it was definitely necessary. He suddenly found his heart much lighter and he seemed to be looking forward to his stay here in Rohan with more enthusiasm than dread.

Fion threw up his hands in exasperation.

"_I turn my back on you for one moment and you are up to no good." _Fion said irritably. Legolas did not bother to reply. Holding back a smile, he allowed his former mentor complain.

Realizing he would get no word out of Legolas, Fion soothed his ruffled feathers by turning towards the other elves.

"_Somebody inform our young prince the importance of time and the reality of day and night." _Fion said crossly, pulling back his sleeves.

"_What did he do this time?" _Arandur asked, not looking up from his book.

"_He was speaking State affairs with the king in his bedroom."_

"_Just like his father." _Bregon muttered under his breath. He pulled out his sleepwear from the wardrobe he shared with the other elves and made to change behind the screens.

"_I am standing right here." _Legolas reminded them, going towards the open window to gaze at the scenery. Fion gave a grunt and left for the adjoining room, no doubt to rant over his former apprentice' strange ways to the other elves.

"_Can I not get a decent sleep without all of you causing such a racket?"_

The elves whipped about in surprise, gazing at the bed. Dorián lay back; his eyes half-open and sleepy, a weak smile upon his face but very much conscious.

"_Dorián!"_

~S~

_Author's Note:_

_And there you have it. _

_*gollum voice*_

_Press the review button... preeeecious... preeeeesss it... preeess it..._

_Replies to reviews._

_emi:_

_Oh, I am much better. Though my session has gotten longer, so if i do not come for some weeks, do not be alarmed. I am just resting off!_

_I had been meaning to ask; was Chapter 11 really so out of place? _

_I honestly did not realize how much chapters this incident was taking until you had mentioned it. :D But I had been meaning to end it on this chapter anyway, so I hope the chapters come out fine._

_On the Sindarin by the royals, well that comes somewhere (can't remember where) in the coming chapters along with the reasoning._

_I can't stay chatting for along. The doctor was not pleased when he heard about my little time on the computer but hey, it is hte only break from my studies! :D_

_branke1: lol, thank you. *bows*_

_Nimirie Eryn Lasgaleneo: No sweat! Think of the new chapters as a treat once you get free! :D_

_Gimlifan8: I am glad you are enjoying it! Yeah I am glad about Eomer going about too. His drunken behaviour was grating on my nerves (Ironic for the author, I know.) :D _

_bob: I am glad you are enjoying it so much. Such reviews keep me going. :)_

_whydoineedapenname 4: Thank you. :) I cannot tell you how much it means to be supported._

_1monster2: I am glad you are enjoying it. Silverclaw has unconsciously taken up more role than I had originally etched out for her. But she has a lovable character. How could one resisit? :P_

_I am glad you enjoy it so much that you wait for an email. :) It helps a lot to know that._


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Legolas was the first one to rush to the wounded elf's side.

"_Dorián! How are you?"_

"_I do not know. You tell me." _The younger elf commented wryly, his voice hoarse from the lack of use.

"_Look at that." _Arandur commented brightly. _"His sense of humor is not knocked out of him."_

"_Unfortunately," _Bregon quipped, grinning as he raised Dorián's head and held a cup of water to his lips.

"_Hold on." _Legolas said, gently squeezing his friend's good hand in his delight _"Let me call Fion." _

Turning his head, Legolas called for the veteran who was resting in the other room.

"_Fion!"_ Legolas cried, overjoyed. "_Dorián's awake!"_

"_Good!"_ Came the veteran's familiar growl. _"Tell him to stay like that so I can give him a proper hearing! That blasted lungs of his must have protested but the fool did not even complain."_

Legolas chuckled and the other elves showed a degree of amusement. It was always fun to see someone be at the other side of the veteran's cutting tongue… as long as they were not the ones. Dorián rolled his eyes.

"_How am I supposed to differentiate between my lungs and my ribs when they are both in the same place?"_ The wounded elf whispered to Legolas, who shrugged in reply.

Unfortunately, Fion was entering the room and heard the remark.

"_Most importantly, you would have had problems in breathing."_ Fion answered.

There was a look of confusion on Dorián's face before he finally remembered. The younger elf groaned aloud. _"Yes, now that you mention it. I do recall trouble in breathing."_

"_Now you mention that tiny detail." _Fion commented dryly, bending down to check the wounded elf's bandages.

"_But I thought it was because of my ribs!" _

Fion gave an exasperated vent. _"You and Legolas will be the death of me. When one gets hurt, the other won't stay out of mischief!" _Raising his hand to stop protests from both Legolas and Dorián, the veteran continued. _"No matter. We will only focus on helping Dorián regain his strength. When we are safe back in our forest, we may speak of it. But I know it will be years before I will even try to find some humor in this incident."_

"_You never find any humor in pretty much of anything." _Dorián muttered under his breath.

"_I heard that." _Fion's tone was clipped. _"And wait till you get better. Then I will hand you for your cheek!"_

Dorián gave a weak chuckle, before abruptly going pale.

"_What is it?" _Fion asked urgently.

"_Pain." _Dorián said weakly. _"Lots of pain."_

"_Where?" _Legolas asked.

Dorián rolled his eyes.

"_Where I am hurt, you idiot!"_

"_A bright sunray on clear waters, is he not?" _Bregon said with some humor as Fion rushed to prepare some herbs for the pain. The elves laughed, remembering the reference to the incident.

"_And to think I missed your sarcasm." _Legolas muttered under his breath.

"_Speaking of bright sunrays, how is my mortal counterpart?" _Dorián asked, his face slightly contorted in the pain but still humorous. The elves laughed, understanding the continuity of the jibe.

"_As bright as he can be."_ Bregon told him, laughing fondly. He took the offered cup from Fion and brought it close to Dorián's lips. He lifted the wounded elf's head so that he could drink easily. Trust Dorián to joke soon after being almost killed!

When Dorián fully drank the concoction, Bregon added distractedly, _"Oh and by the way, that concoction you just drank will lull you back to sleep immediately."_

"_What-" _But Dorián could not finish the words. Soon enough the elf was peacefully in slumber. That raised a shout of protests from the other elves.

"_Aw,"_ Callon protested. _"He had just woken up. We wanted to talk to him."_

Fion patted Callon's shoulder. _"He needs his rest. He had woken up too soon. His body would not be able to take care of the extent of his injuries just yet. He needs to awaken only a few times. Besides, I know my former apprentice. That dratted youngling would try to get up, insisting he is fine."_

"_You are no fun." _Callon muttered. Fion made a shooing motion absently.

"_Out, out. Be like the river and flow away. Let Bregon and I do our work. Tomorrow, he will be more awake and you can tease and talk to him to your heart's content."_

"_Wet blanket," _Nimon muttered under his breath.

"_I heard that." _Fion growled, reaching for a cushion and hurling at the retreating elves.

Laughing, the elves scrambled for safety, before harder items followed to encourage their retreat.

oOo

Legolas leaned back and placed his elbows on the higher step behind him. He was sitting on the steps of Meduseld. It had been roughly two or three hours after sunrise. As usual the people were about, doing their daily chores.

"I knew I would find you here." Legolas did not bother to look behind him.

"Really, Fion, just because I leave without telling you where I am does not mean that I am up to some trouble." Legolas said.

Fion chuckled and sat down beside the prince.

"Thranduil would have my head if something happens to you."

"My father would have mine first before he sets his eyes on you" Legolas retorted.

"Hm, what were you doing with a quill and inkwell but no parchment?" Fion said, gesturing at the prince's lap where the mentioned items lay.

"I was writing a letter to my father." Fion laughed.

"Don't laugh." Legolas said miserably. "This will not end well for me."

"Why did you not confer to him through mind speech?"

"Just because I court death from time to time does not mean I am eager for one, my former mentor."

"Ah, but did you send the letter?" Fion pressed. Legolas pointed at the skies.

"Take a look." Legolas answered. "Silverclaw has just left with it."

Fion shaded his eyes with his hand and looked. Sure enough, be discerned a streak of silver making its way towards the general direction of Eryn Lasgelen.

"Her return will be interesting." Fion remarked.

"I am glad you find enjoyment in it." Legolas replied. "Well, I might as well enjoy my last days of freedom. Who knows what my father will plan for me?"

"Éomer is awake."

"By himself? I am shocked."

"Do not tease." Fion said, laughing. "It seems Dorián's case has jerked him back to his older self. My respect for him is growing."

"He knows the bawdiest songs ever."

"And it is shrinking again."

"But he is a loyal comrade." Legolas replied, grinning as he left the inkwell and the quill on one of the tables in the Golden Hall. He had burrowed it from Lady Winflead. He knew she will pick it up later.

"Where is he now?" Legolas asked, rolling back his sleeves. The days were getting too warm for the clothes he was wearing.

"In his study, getting things ready. He awaits you there. He has already broken his fast."

"Good, I will join him there."

"But what about breaking your fast?"

"I will eat later." Legolas said, waving his hand as he left.

"No wonder you are so thin." Fion muttered under his breath as he followed his young prince.

oOo

"What a splendid surprise!" Legolas said jovially, taking in the sight of Éomer dressed well and standing by the table that stood in the middle of his study. Gamling was leaning against the windowsill, looking outside. "I never thought I would see you so sober in the mornings."

"Ha," Éomer said bleakly. "I suppose you will never let me live it down."

"If he does, we will not." Gamling called out from his perch. "At the very least, I will not. I am sure there are many inns which will find the King's encounters with the elves amusing."

Éomer did not reply, but gave small smile. Gamling had been Theoden's most loyal ally and friend. He held the older Rider with great respect.

They had just sat down around the table when the door opened and Éothain stuck his head inside, "I am going to take the new recruits out into the training grounds. Am I needed here?"

"Éothain!" Éomer said brightly. "Join us!"

"Nay," the Rider relied wryly. "My eyes will glaze over from all the talk of grain and payment and who knows what else. And that one," he continued, shaking a finger towards Legolas. The elf assumed a hurt look. "Is a pain. I will leave him to you." Éothain waved a hand as he left.

"We did not need you anyway." Legolas muttered under his breath.

Their attention then returned to the table.

"Legolas, I know you told me everything, but I believe neither Fion nor Gamling know yet. It would be best if you repeat everything again." Éomer said.

"If I had to say all of that again, why did I waste my breath the first time?" Legolas asked. "Or better yet, do not answer that question."

Taking a deep breath, Legolas set about in explaining everything again. He gestured at the maps, then at the lists and then at the maps again. Fion and Gamling listened in grave silence. Legolas, however, was having a strange feeling of history repeating itself.

When he finished after three hours, Fion and Gamling still wore the same expressions of discrete scrutiny.

"You mentioned a lady?" Gamling finally said.

"Aye, Lady Lothíriel of Dol Amroth. Faramir recommended her most highly."

"Hm," Éomer said thoughtfully, tapping his chin. "Lothìriel of Dol Amroth. I cannot recall her."

"You are joking!" Legolas said in disbelief. "You met her on the fields of Cormallen!"

"I met a lot of women on the fields of Cormallen." Éomer commented dryly.

"You met her again in Aragorn's wedding."

"I met a lot of women there too."

Legolas was about to speak when he thought better of it.

"You really cannot recall, can you?" Legolas asked. Éomer shook his head. "Good. Keep it that way. If you do not remember her, my work will be all the easier."

"I do wish to meet her though."

"Absolutely not," Legolas snapped.

"Why not?" Éomer demanded.

"I have no wish for the King of Rohan mooning about like a lovesick calf!"

"Me mooning about like a-" Éomer sputtered. "And where exactly have you deduced such an idea? I recall that you did not precisely have much exposure with men."

"I know Aragorn. And I know how he fell in love with Arwen."

"So you deduced your conclusions from one man."

"Aragorn is a man." Legolas defended himself.

"I have no doubt that he is a man, but that does not mean that he is the representation of the entire Race of Men!"

Meanwhile, Gamling looked weary. And Fion had his head lowered, his elbows on the table and his fingertips rubbing his temples slowly. Finally he raised his head.

"Enough," the veteran said wearily. "I do not know how we went from discussing State Affairs to questioning Aragorn's mortality, but we must return to the matters at hand while we still have daylight." Turning to Éomer, he said. "Éomer, we need to discuss how we are to pay for all of this."

The young king rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, we do not have any money." He said slowly. "We need time to find sources that can be used to produce wealth. For that, we need Gondor to give us the grain as the planting season approaches as well as the time we need to gather so large a sum."

"They will not give their product in exchange of mere promises." Gamling protested.

"What I was thinking," Éomer continued. "Was that we send something to Gondor so that she may trust us and we can continue the trade negotiations. This should be something so dear to us that we are bound to pay them back."

"What do you have in mind?" Legolas asked.

Éomer tapped the desk with his fingertip. "The tapestries that hang in our halls." He said. "Our history and lore is what we treasure after the horses. Our horses are too dear to us to part with, and what is more, our herds are still recovering. We will give them the tapestries and obtain a year's time in which we will procur the money they want from us. Should we not be able to collect the wealth needed by that time, I am sure they can sell the tapestries as antiques and get the needed wealth instead."

"And your people will be fine by this?" Fion asked, raising a brow.

"Nay, we are not." Gamling spoke before Éomer could speak. The old warrior then gave rueful smile. "But we need the grain more."

"Besides," Éomer said. "we will find some way. We only need time." The young king looked at the Elven Prince. "What do you think?"

Legolas stroked his chin as he regarded the charts in frot of him. "We certainly do not have much of a choice." Legolas said at last. "Our main priority is to get the grain then we can discuss the way to obtain the money to pay for it."Legolas hesitated before saying, "There is another way, though."

"And that would be?" Éomer asked.

Legolas glanced at Fion. Eryn Lasgelen was well-known for its hoard of wealth. Even the commonest of the elves was rich by Mannish standards. Legolas, being a royal as well as one of the seven Commanders of Mirkwood Rangers, had a handsome amount of that wealth to his name. The problem lay in the fact that he did not have much to do with it besides having to spend it on expeditions and in providing his soldiers with equipment. He still had plenty to spare. He can even pay the entire sum for the grain (which was quite large) and still live luxuriously.

The problem was getting Éomer to agree to it.

But before Legolas could speak, Éomer's sharp mind already guessed what the elf was up to.

"Absolutely not," the king snapped. Legolas scowled at him.

"I am trying to save your people from starving, you fool." Legolas said irritably. "Besides, you did not even hear my proposal yet."

"I do not need to." Éomer answered. "Think not that I do not know what your intentions are. The wealth of the Elven-King of Eryn Lasgelen is renowned even in our tales. It only makes sense that his son would have a share of it. You will not pay the grain in Rohan's behalf."

"Blast Rohirric pride." Legolas said.

"I stand by my king's words." Gamling added.

"I know you do." Legolas said, annoyed. "Fine," He continued, with grudging admiration for the Rohirrim.

"The other way is to get married to an heiress." Gamling said thoughtfully.

"Absolutely not!" Legolas said. "Did I not say before that he will not be marrying until his kingdom is stable? Besides, you will not marry a poor girl just because of her dowry."

The men fell silent. A moment later, Éomer said, "Legolas, you are an heir too."

Gamling burst out laughing. Legolas shot the king a suspicious glance; Éomer was picture of innocence except for those eyes that held his mirth.

"Precisely." Legolas said dryly. "I am an heir. Please note the emphasis on the male gender of the word. Make that joke again and I will punch you in the jaw."

"The lot of you has dirty minds." Fion concluded, shaking his head. "Éomer, you need to send an envoy to Dol Amroth."

"Indeed, Master Fion. Your prince is always ready to travel for Rohan's cause, why not him?" Éomer said. He drew in a sharp breath when Legolas poked him with a pointed wooden rod that was used as a tracker on maps.

"This prince may be old but he is still hale and capable of hearing." Legolas responded, stepping away to escape any form of retaliation. "I would love to, but I have noticed that my company has a habit of getting into trouble. The next time something else would happen. Besides, I notice you work well when I keep an eye on you." Legolas ended, waving the pointed rod in Éomer's direction. "What is more, my sea-longing is bad enough as it is when I am on land. I am not eager to find out how it will be so close to the sea."

"What is more," Gamling put in. "This is Rohan's affair. We cannot depend upon the elves on everything. I suggest sending our own people to make the negotiations and finalize them."

"What good are you if you are not eager to travel for our cause?" Éomer asked Legolas.

"Did I not say that I am to be your nanny? And nanny, I will be! Do try and get used to it."

"What is this about being a nanny?" Gamling asked, confused. It occurred to Éomer that Gamling did not know that certain incident. Grinning, Legolas opened his mouth to enlighten him.

"Anyway," Éomer said hastily. "We are still discussing this among ourselves. I still need to approach my advisors for this one."

Legolas poked him again with the map tracker. Éomer batted it away with his hand.

"Would you stop doing that?" The young king snapped.

"Nay, I will not." Legolas replied. "What I want to know is when you will speak to them?"

"Tomorrow," he answered. "And only then can we discuss who we will be sending to Dol Amroth."

"Fine, then let us go to some other things."

"What I want you to do, Sire." Gamling said. "I want you to go personally out of Edoras and overlook the cities and towns to see what we have to repair. Most of our towns are burned to the ground."

"I would love to, but Éothain is adamant on letting me stay here." Éomer said wistfully. Legolas snapped up at his words.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Éothain feels that the last heir of Eorl should remain where he could be protected."

"Bah! And look who is being the nanny now." Legolas growled, waving the map tracker about. Fion leaned forward and plucked the sharp item from his former apprentice's grasp.

"And I will take that." The veteran said dryly. "The last time you had it in your hand, I ended up in stitches."

"That was some three centuries ago. And it was not me, it was Dorián. Besides, you ended up in stitches because you refused to have your wounds treated and marched to the council chambers dripping blood all over the place-"

"I was only dripping blood in the throne room and the corridors leading from it to the council chambers."

"Hm, not in the council chamber itself, if I recall. You fell unconscious along the way."

"How did we get from discussing who will send as an envoy to arguing whether Fion had fainted or not before reaching a council chamber?" Gamling whispered to Éomer as they watched the two elves bicker amongst themselves.

The young king shrugged, confused. "I have not the slightest idea, but I will admit; my heart had never been this lighter for some months."

~S~

_Author's note:_

_A nice change from the suspense of the past chapters. _

_I am just breaking my story into chapters when I realized this story is longer than expected. I had originally wanted to keep this as a one-shot that was only like 4 to 5 chapters long but when I started to write it, it was too much fun for me to let go._

_Reviews, as always, are much appreciated!_

_Replies:_

_emi:_

_I am glad that both Chapter 11 and the previous chapter was ok. I had been a little nervous when I took out the execution and interrogation scenes. It just didn't go with the scenes. I hope this answered the question on how the grain will be paid... eventually. I noticed that no one when with this type of approach in fanfiction so I wanted to use it._

_Oh, and the part of Eryn Lasgelen is new. You might have noticed. I had no idea I could use that approach but I had this story already planned out. Besides, Legolas would be needed his wealth later in my sequel. :)_

_Oh and the letter. Yeah, here it is. Original drafts had the entire letter but I realized I was lingering too much on this case. :D_

_ 1monster2: _

_Haha, I am glad. Yeah, that piece of conversation was a last minute editing. Lol!_

_Gimlifan8:_

_I am glad you liked everything about the previous chapter. I had been nervous when I took those scenes out but it is good to know that you guys loved it. :D_

_brankel1:_

_I am sorry, I am afriad I did not understand what you said. Them who?_

_KnightGhost10287:_

_Haha, I am glad. :D_


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

That night, Dorián woke up and woke everyone else up with his shouting.

_"Fion!"_ The wounded elf howled. _"You put me to sleep!"_

_"Hush,"_ Fion mumbled sleepily, burrowing into his blanket. _"It is still a few hours before daybreak. Go back to sleep, Dorián."_

_"Will not,"_ Dorián said, not even able to cross his arms to sulk.

Fion heard Legolas sit up on his lofty couch.

_"We might as well wake up."_ The prince grumbled. _"That idiot will not stop wailing like a wraith until we do."_

_"I could knock him out."_ Bregon suggested, leaving his couch.

_"You most certainly will not."_ Fion snapped, jolting awake. _"I will not tend to another wound!"_

Bregon winked at Legolas as he folded his blanket. _"At least I woke up Fion."_ He said. Legolas snickered.

A sleepy Callon appeared at the doorway.

_"Will you keep it down?"_ He asked. _"Some of us are trying to sleep."_

_"While some of us are trying to keep others awake."_ Fion said, shooting a glare at Dorián.

_"Join us,"_ Legolas offered, grinning. "_We assure you Dorián the rooster will keep you awake till the morning."_

_"Thank you for the kind offer, my prince."_ Callon said wryly, quickly retreating back into the room he came from. _"But I would rather not be anywhere near him when he is screaming blue murder."_

_"I have every right to."_ The younger elf answered once Callon escaped. "_You put me to sleep."_

_"I will put you to eternal sleep if you keep this up."_ Fion growled.

_"Legolas, Fion is threatening me!"_

_"Better him than me."_ Legolas mumbled, pulling on a shirt.

The door opened and Éomer came bursting in.

Legolas and Fion groaned. "_Wonderful,"_ the veteran murmured. Dorián grinned.

"That is it." The young king said, looking at the elves who were wide awake. "I am going to give you rooms far away from mine. You wreak too much havoc in my household."

Those words were so familiar, Legolas thought.

Fion attempted to console the royal.

"We are sorry for the disturbance. I had just seen a big rat and I was warning the others."

_"Rat?"_ Legolas asked in disbelief. Fion flitted his eyes meaningfully towards Dorián. _"Oh, that rat." _Legolas muttered. "Yes, Éomer, we have everything under control now."

Éomer gazed at one elf to another in disbelief, but he knew a dismissal when he heard one.

"Fine, but one peep-"

"You will not hear one." Fion promised, escorting the king out.

Once the king left, Dorián exploded, _"Rat! Who are you calling a rat?"_

_"You, and you are apparently a very dumb one."_ Fion said absently as he came forward to tend to Dorián's wounds.

When he was done, Dorián howled, _"I am hungry!"_

_"Why you little-"_ Fion breathed_. "Fine, I will get you something to eat."_

Fion left, and Legolas whirled about to face Dorián. "_You are doing this on purpose!" _

The wounded elf had the audacity to wink at his best friend.

_"Serves him right,"_ Dorián said, settling back comfortably in his pillows. "_No one puts Thranduil's elite spy to sleep without paying for it."_

Legolas laughed fondly.

It was a while after Fion had brought food from the deserted kitchens. It was not much; just some leftover bread and cheese, but Dorián ate with much relish. The elf showed a healthy appetite, the glow of health and life returning to his skin and making his bruises and cuts look less prominent. The black eye was fast in disappearing. Soon, the elf would only have to worry about his arm, everything else will be superficial.

When he was done and the tray was set aside,Fion said, _"You should try to get some rest."_

_"No, no. I am very much awake. Tell me what has been going on while I was asleep."_

Fion looked up in mock despair. Legolas grinned and launched into the tales of the past few days. However, he skipped over the criminals' case and continued on, but Dorián stopped him with a touch on the wrist.

_"I meant, what had happened to the ones who did this to me_?" Dorián asked quietly. Legolas hesitated before saying, _"They have been executed."_

Dorián looked away, staying silent.

"_You are not feeling guilty, are you?" Fion asked._

"_Not really,"_ Dorián answered. He yawned wildly. He was getting a little tired, now that he had a full stomach and his curiosity was quenched. _"I feel relieved, just a little."_

"_It needed to be done."_

"_What else happened while I was asleep?" _

Legolas continued. He kept on talking until Fion placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to meet Fion's half-amused smile.

"_Dorián is asleep. Save your breath."_

Legolas looked. Sure enough, Dorián's head rested awkwardly on the pillows.

The veteran bent down and tucked the blanket more securely around Dorián and tenderly brushed away some locks.

"_Fion will never admit it but he cares for the both of you."_ Bregon remarked, coming to stand beside Legolas.

"_He practically looked after us when we were younglings_." Legolas answered, his voice just as low. Bregon patted him on his shoulder.

_"Come," _the healer said. "_Let us get some rest before Dorián wakes up and gives us grief again."_

oOo

The next day, Éomer crawled out of his bedroom and crawled into the council chamber for a meeting with the advisors. He tried to persuade Legolas to attend the meeting but the prince refused.

"Nay, thank you." Legolas had said, laughing. "If I have to repeat myself one more time, I will go mad. Besides, this is your country, not mine."

"You are cruel." The young king mumbled. Gamling, on the other hand, was the only one with some pity and decided to accompany his king.

They met again in the evening, when Éomer (Legolas truly could not help laughing) crawled out of the council chamber. Impressively, he looked much better than he did the first time he came out.

"We have decided to send an envoy immediately." Éomer said, sitting heavily on the seat beside Legolas and nodding in thanks as one of the maids provided him with a tankard of ale.

"I will take that." Legolas added hastily, removing the tankard before Éomer could reach for it. The young king looked at it mournfully but shook his head.

"You really are cruel." He decided, but continued with his report. "I have already written letters that have to go to both Minas Tirith and Dol Amroth. They are ready for the messenger."

"When do they leave?"

"Tomorrow. Who is that?" Éomer asked, gesturing towards the hawk that was perched on Legolas' shoulder.

"Éomer, I would like you to meet Frostfeather." Legolas said.

Éomer eyed the bird skeptically.

True to his name, Frostfeather had stark white feathers instead of silver. He had a sleepy expression, as if he could not care for anything in the world except for a decent perch where he can get a good sleep.

"He does not seem very..." Éomer trailed off, eyeing the bird that looked back at him lazily, his beak slightly open.

"Responsible? Bright?" Legolas guessed, rubbing the hawk's neck. "I assure you he moves quiet fast when there is any danger. Watch," Without giving it much thought, Legolas plucked a feather from the hawk's torso. Instantly, the hawk was awake and raised himself in the air, flapping his wings in indignation.

"Peace," Legolas said in his own tongue, raising a hand to placate the hawk's anger. "I had not meant to be rude; I merely wanted to awaken you." The hawk gave a final squawk of angry protest before settling on the elf's shoulder.

Legolas faced the king. "And there you have it." He said.

"Why am I seeing him now?"

"He can carry our messages to and fro from Gondor." Legolas explained, rhythmically rubbing Frostfeather's head. The hawk's eyelids dropped in enjoyment, his stance returning to its original lazy position. "In fact, he could follow the envoy to Dol Amroth and give you quicker reports on how the negotiations are coming along."

"Wonderful," Éomer replied sarcastically. "More reports for me."

"Do not be rude." Legolas said, laughing. "It is your fault that you did not care for the kingdom when you could. Besides, this is a good sign of progress. You should be happy."

Éomer smiled.

"There is another thing, though." Legolas said, using both hands to take up the hawk and cradle him on his lap. "When do you plan to go out into your domain? Your people would renew their hope if they see you, and that would help in the progress of the country."

"Did you hear nothing of our talk yesterday?" The king asked. "Éothain won't let me out of this city."

"Oh," Legolas said, his voice dangerously quiet. He let Frostfeather lie on his back on the prince's lap, its sharp claws in the air. "Leave Éothain to me. "

"You are not going to hurt him, are you?"

"Oh, I will not… much." Legolas answered.

"Can I be sure?" Éomer asked dryly.

"Nay, you cannot."

Éomer's attention diverted towards a servant that lingered near them.

"Yes?"

"Sire," the servant said, bowing. "The advisors wish to speak to you on some important matters. They await you in the council chamber in the West Wing."

"Wonderful," Éomer grumbled.

"Enjoy." Legolas said, laughing.

Éomer gave a weary sigh but followed the servant, leaving Legolas with the hawk. Fion came and sat beside the prince.

_"Look at that,"_ the veteran said in mock surprise. _"You are staying out of trouble."_

_"It is nice to see you too."_

_"Legolas?"_

_"Hm?"_

_"I had been putting your things away from your travel to Gondor and I must ask; what is a formal cloak with the emblem of a white tree and seven stars doing in your belongings?"_

_"Oh, that is not mine. It belongs to Lord Faramir, Lady Éowyn's husband."_

_"Well, what is his cloak doing in your things?"_

_"I mean to offer it to her."_

_"But why!"_

_"I hear women get... What did Lady Winflead call it... Mood swings, I believe that was the word. I tend to let the lady know that despite this being Faramir's fault, it was not... Faramir's fault."_

Fion snorted in amusement.

_"I know you well, lad. That is not the only reason."_

_"You will see tonight."_

_"You are not going to tell me now!"_

_"That would ruin the fun!"_

"_If you are planning it to be tonight, then at least wear something better. Dinner is only three hours away!"_

"_Fine. Are you coming?"_

"_Of course."_

oOo

Legolas was just opening the door with Fion behind him, flashing a smile at the maid who was bringing in hot food for Dorián when he heard the commotion inside.

"_Do I look like I am wallowing in despair to you?" _He heardDorián's voice rise up in complain. _"The next time someone asks whether I have the sudden desire to set sail will regret it terribly. Aye, I have desire! I am hungry! Where is the food? Ah, there it is, finally. The rest of you, out! OUT!"_

"_What is going on?" _Legolas demanded. He watched in bemusement as the maid quickly left the tray on a table and fled. Fion gave a tired groan.

"_Your escort had been questioning Dorián if he wants to set sail?"_

"_What?" _Legolas said in disbelief. _"Dorián hates to be coddled."_

"_Tell that to them." _Fion said, jerking his thumb towards the elves.

Just then, Nimon said, _"But Dorián if you feel like sailing-"_

"_That is enough." _The wounded elf growled. _"Prepare to be punished." _

If any of the elves did not understand his statement, they certainly understood his gesture as the elf reached for the cushions and pillows on his bed.

"_He is back," _Bregon had commented dryly, ducking as one of the stiffer pillows sailed past him. Dorián may be bedridden but there was still a great deal of strength in his good arm. The elf made his way towards the other room, keeping a wary eye at the wounded elf for any incoming missiles.

"_I think I liked him better when he was unconscious." _Arandur grunted, grabbing another two elves and pushing them into the opposite room and into safety. The elven escort made a mental note to remove anything that could be used as ammunition from Dorián's room.

Fion laughed heartily as the last elf disappeared into the adjoining room. Legolas stared, mouth agape at the pillows and cushions strewn on the floor.

"_Things are finally settling down normally." _The veteran said, clapping Legolas on his shoulder. That brought the prince out of his stupor.

"_Define normal." _The prince said, as he helped Dorián sit up.

"_Hungry?" _Legolas asked.

"_Starving," _Dorián replied with a rueful smile.

"_Good, you need to eat." _Legolas brought the tray and settled it across the wounded elf's lap.

"_I am eating myself." _Dorián said forcefully.

"_Of course," _Legolas retorted.

"_Of course not!" _FIon snapped at the same time.

"_I will leave you two to argue," _Legolas said hastily, turning away from the bed.

Sure enough, the former mentor and the former apprentice launched into a heated argument whether Dorián's good arm was capable of feeding him or not.

Legolas opened the wardrobe at the corner of the room, dimly aware of argument behind him. Faramir's cloak was folded and placed in the shelves, while Legolas' own cloak was hanging from the nails in the wardrobe.

Thranduil had insisted in taking another, more formal cloak for his journey. It was more elegantly made than his normal, slightly rougher cloaks. It was more ceremonial than functional. Legolas' royal emblem was stitched to the back of the cloak. Personally, Legolas never saw the need of wearing it but he would need a little pomp for what he had in mind.

Studiously avoiding the fighting elves, Legolas made his way to the washbasin and refreshed himself. Changing behind the screen, he finally donned on the cloak.

"_Do we need to wear ours too?" _Fion asked in surprise, momentarily forgetting his current battle. Dorián took advantage of it and promptly started to eat with his good hand.

"_Nay," _Legolas answered, taking out Faramir's cloak. _"I had been the messenger, so I am the only one who needs to do anything. Besides, Gondor likes a little show."_

oOo

Surprisingly, this time at dinner, the elves found the food less spicy than it had been the first time they had dined in the Hall. But they soon realized that somehow the women had caught wind that elves had not taken much liking to the Rohirric spices and served them with milder forms of the dishes.

When the food was

_"It is time."_ Legolas said, sliding out of the bench.

_"Do we need to ready our knives?"_ Arandur asked jokingly.

_"Oh no, it would not come to that. At least... I hope not."_

_"How assuring."_

_"I will be back." _Legolas said, laughing as he left.

He weaved in and out of the large crowd, occasionally offering a bright smile to anyone stubborn to get out of his way.

Legolas finally came to stand in front of the raised platform, waiting a while till Éomer's attention rested upon him. Éowyn say beside her brother, her deep purple gown falling elegantly about her. She raised an eyebrow in a silent question which Legolas did not bother to answer.

When Éomer opened his mouth to question what the matter, Legolas silenced him with an unnoticeable shake of his head.

Once he was sure the chatter in the Golden Hall died down and everyone was looking at the curious scene of an elf belonging to royalty standing in front of a seated mortal king. Legolas bowed slightly towards Éomer, as befitting of his royal rank.

"With the permission of the King, I would like to speak to his sister, Éowyn of Rohan, Princess of Ithilien."

Éomer stared at the elf, taken aback by the formality in his tone. As far as he knew, the elf had never been one to act so... Prude. But Legolas slight warning glance meant that he wanted so much attention on him and on Éowyn. Éomer cleared his throat, uncomfortably aware of so many piercing eyes on him.

"The Prince of Mirkwood may speak."

Eryn Lasgelen, Legolas fumed inwardly. My forest's name is Eryn Lasgelen!

Outwardly, he bowed his head formally and offered the cloak to Lady Éowyn.

"I am here as an acting messenger on the behalf of your husband Lord Faramir, Steward of Gondor and Prince of Ithilien. He regrets deeply that he could not be with his family at this time of need of his wife. As a token of love he bears for his wife and as a symbol of respect for her heritage and for her people, he sends his Steward's cloak with the words tha he hopes his wife would love him always."

There a moment of silence after which a buzz of conversation followed. Legolas caught snatches of it, where the people showed their surprise.

Éowyn reached out with trembling fingers, accepting the cloak from him.

"I thank you and I accept my husband's gift." She said quietly.

Legolas bowed once more before retreating backwards.

Once he sat down with the other elves and the people's attention was diverted elsewhere, Fion pounced on him.

_"Alright,"_ Fion said dryly. "_Tell me what you did. I deserve to know if you have started a war between our two countries. I might be able to get your father to send a peace delegation in time."_

_"I did no such thing." _Legolas protested, laughing. He took a sip from his tankard. _"Contrary to what you think, I am more dimplomatic than I seem."_

_"Then tell me, my former apprentice, what was your diplomatic action here?"_

_"I remembered something Èlfhelm once told me-"_

_"Èlfhelm?"_ Fion interrupted.

_"He is one of the Marshals. Now stop interrupting! I remembered tha t he once told me the significance of cloaks in their customs. Now I do not recall all of it, but the main point about their cloaks was that they held a great meaning in their lives. A Rider's cloak may be handled by his betrothed, spouse and children, but no one else."_

_"And this means?"_

_"Faramir was working hard on making sure his people did not bear any ill feelings for the Crown of Gondor. What he did not realize that by staying in Gondor, the Rohirrim were speaking ill of him."_

_"How did you know that?"_

_"Please,"_ Legolas scoffed. _"Really, Fion, give me some credit. I may be young in your eyes but I am still old enough to see and hear around me. I heard the gossip."_

_"Peace,"_ Fion said, soothing the prince's ire. _"Continue."_

_"Now the Rohirrim hold family with more value. I had hoped Faramir could come by himself but when I heard his reasons I did not try to propose the idea. It was clear that he would be flying free if it had not been the duties tying him down. So I took his cloak. Such a gift that the Rohirrim themselves hold with jealousy will soothe any ruffled feathers of the people and Éowyn would have something to remember her husband by."_

_"Very, very cunning of you,"_ Fion commented. _"One thing though. You said you took Faramir's cloak. Does that mean what I think it means?"_

There it was. Fion saw that disturbing gleam in his former apprentice's eye.

_"Faramir had better thank me for this. Satisfying his wife and her people is not easy."_

_"So you are wise as you claim, __boy__."_

_"I hope father finds you a difficult job when we go back to the forest."_ Legolas grumbled, sinking in his seat.

~S~

_Author's Note:_

_Laser treatment... Sorry._


	16. Chapter 16

_Author's Important Note (Please Read):_

_On the last chapter, one reviewer commented on the tradition of Rohirric Cloaks. _

_Being new to fanfiction, I had no idea that such an idea has already been used. I was inspired by the idea when I had been watching the charge of Rohirrim on Pelennor Fields some months ago._

_But I am still putting a disclaimer here. _

_That said, the idea of Rohirric Cloak customs then belong to annafan and ZeesMuses._

**Why did I use Faramir's cloak?**

**Ans.** While going through my story I soon realized that gossip of the royal family was widespread in old times. Since the people of Rohan were depicted to be close to families, they might of viewed Faramir as a stranger. Eowyn was well-loved among her people, and since gossip is like Chinese whispers, all sorts of misunderstandings can and would have arisen. Legolas' foresightedness saw that he could prevent any misunderstandings between Gondor and Rohan by presenting Faramir's cloak to Eowyn in a public gathering. It smoothed over any unruffled feathers on the side of the Rohirrim on the change of Eowyn's loyalty.

**End of Explanation.**

**Enjoy!**

**~S~**

Chapter 16

He was dead tired. His bones ached, his muscles ached and damn it, his mind ached.

Legolas stretched his back, grimacing as he heard his spine pop. He had been bending over the charts for how long, he did not know. What he did know was that he had started somewhere before noon and now it was some hours into nightfall.

Glancing about him in the tent, the elf could not believe that it had already been two and a half months since he left for Rohan. So much had occurred, and be had been so busy that most of the events passed like a whirlwind before his eyes. Besides, he was an elf and immortal; two and a half months meant nothing to him.

But despite that fact, Legolas felt a little homesick. He missed his father. When the war ended, he was looking forward to building the new Mirkwood together. But Aragorn's letter arrived and Legolas could not refuse. It would not have sat well with him.

Regardless, he soon realized that he had made the right choice. Éomer was needed some support and also sincere advice. He had a military mind, which meant that he looked at the way things could be used and exploited for war and not to be saved. It was not corruption; it was simply a fact and a natural instinct of any good commander.

Once the envoy for Dol Amroth had left, Legolas had bullied Éothain in agreeing to let Éomer go out to meet his people. It was done reluctantly, but Legolas was adamant and Gamling supported his decision.

Even though Legolas had insisted on taking the entire first éored with the king, he had been pretty indulgent. He allowed Éomer to race ahead of them, sometimes joining him in the gallop. If there was a stream nearby, they would take the time to visit it.

As for his escort, Legolas thought with a small grin. He had (admittedly) abandoned them in Edoras, insisting that Éowyn would need their help. The work in Meduseld was long since done, but his company did not need to know that. By the time they would realized his slip, he would be far away. True, that would mean that his escort would be ready to strangle him when he returned.

Truthfully, in his heart, Legolas could not bear the thought of another elf getting hurt again. Many elves had already died for Rohan in Helm's Deep. Dorián nearly joined them. Any other elf could be in danger as well. It was not that he doubted be skill of his escort. Each one of them was a trained killer. But he was their prince and commander, and he could not suffer any harm to his subordinates.

And so when Silverclaw arrived, he had sent another letter, requesting the return of his escort. Some of the elves would stay (Fion and Bregon would absolutely refuse to leave), but the others would return. Besides, Legolas thought with unveiled annoyance, what was father thinking by sending wih him twelve elves? It was like an army at his disposal!

Dorián was doing surprisingly well. He had not expected it, but he was happy for it. For once, the younger elf was compliant enough to let his arm heal. The rest of the bruises and cuts disappeared quickly. Bregon and Fion used a little of healing for his arm, but not too much. The internal bleeding of Dorián's lung had made them both more cautious. But as far as Legolas had gathered before he left, Dorián was well.

Still that was two months ago. Dorián should be doing well... Unless he got himself into trouble again whilst he was gone.

As for his father, he had been expecting a reply to his letter that was full of censures and scoldings over Dorián's case. Instead, Thranduil gave a distracted reply that was only one side of the parchment long.

It was a little disappointing but Legolas had to admit that it was understandable. The forest was being cleaned from all the fell creatures that once lived there. Thranduil wanted to expand his kingdom and construct some buildings outside of his hidden and covered fortress. It was time to inhabit the forest freely once more, and that called for a great deal of his attention.

Before they had left for this major journey a food the kingdom, summer had hit so hard that the warm clothing and blankets were placed in chests and trunks. Legolas opted for the men's style of clothing. Looser garments and his tied up hair kept at least some, though not most of the heat away.

He took one look around the tent and grimaced again. It was a modest tent, with only a sleeping mat spread on the ground. The charts were laid on a spread cloth and Legolas had been sitting cross-legged. His eyesight was among the best even in his own kind but even he needed a little bit of light to see the charts in the darkness of the tent. There was a single candle alight beside the charts and the bare light was enough.

There was no cot, no wall hanging and no table for the charts. It was typical for a riding éored, he was told. They were meant to travel light and not for luxury. Legolas and Éomer had been visiting towns and villages in their path as they made their way towards Aldburg. Éomer had already sent out riders to all the ends of the kingdom with one main message; to ready the fields and to have hope. Grain will arrive soon.

And it was true. The envoy to Dol Amroth had reached their destination in two weeks. Five days of neotiations finally brought a conclusion. Frostfeather arrived four days later, informing Éomer and Legolas about the success of the talks. The tapestries were soon brought down from where they hung. Men were needed for the task, for the tapestries were very heavy. They were rolled and wrapped in oiled cloth, protecting it from the weather. The women had placed some dried herbs that Legolas could not identify into the packed tapestries. When Legolas asked, they told him that it would keep the insects away, and prevent the musty smell from settling into the expansive cloth.

"Clever," Legolas remarked, genuinely impressed.

But even as the rolled up tapestries were sent on their way, Éomer and Legolas both knew it would be at the very least two months for Gondor to gather those supplies, with additional weeks for the time when they would arrive. Sowing season would have already started by then.

From what Legolas had gathered while talking to some of the farmers in one of the battered-down towns, the grain would need the heat of the summer before the monsoon season. They needed the grain before then.

He gazed at the charts. Every time they made camp, Legolas and Éomer would separately go over the main objectives. Legolas had marked each town they had visited with ink. Underneath, each of the visited towns, Legolas had written down the conditions and the current state of the mentioned area, along with the population. Some of them were in a terrible state. Homes were needed to be rebuilt, and sadly, Rohan had more dependents than men. The dependents were the crippled, the old, the women and the children.

They needed able-bodied men for the rebuilding and for the farming.

Éomer suggested that he should disband one of his éored temporarily. Legolas supported the idea. Gamling, on the other hand, was skeptical.

"It would be hard to regroup them should we are attacked." The weathered Rider said.

"You do not have much of choice." Legolas said. "Winter strikes hard on your country. You need your people to survive those months. You know that you have lost at least two thousand people to the cold and to the starvation."

That silenced Gamling and the deed was done. An éored from Under Marshal Èlfhelm was disbanded and the men were stationed in the towns allotted by Éomer himself.

The first towns and villages to be rebuilt were those that had the most farming areas. The most fertile ground was situated at the river banks and along the mountain ranges. They gave the most grain and Éomer planned to focus on them more than on other lands.

As for the people themselves... Legolas shuddered.

He had never seen such haunted and gaunt looks in his life, not even when the city of Dale was razed to the ground when Smaug the Dragon had arrived to the Lonely Mountain.

The towns nearer to Edoras and in the middle of the kingdom were more well-off, having the most protection Rohan could give in the time of war. But the cities near Aldburg were the worst. Here, the Uruk-hai and the Wild Men had really done their mark. Some of the towns were not there... At all. Only burnt ground and some charred remains of the ruined buildings remained. Others were nonexistent. Here the population was barely hundred or a little more than that. When they had finally reached Aldburg, the situation there was less grim and understandably so. There they met Èlfhelm, a stocky Rider with a keen eye and an alert military stance. Legolas had always been at good relations with the grim and focused Rider. When Éomer took up the throne, the seat of the Third Marshal was empty. Èlfhelm was chosen, and though the Rider felt inadequate, he certainly had the experience and the maturity needed for the position.

They had stayed for barely a day in the city when they went on the road again. It was wearying and mind-numbing, but great change always calls for great sacrifices... Even if it meant an aching behind and legs for days in a saddle, Legolas concluded ruefully.

Finally fed up with the sight of the charts and maps, Legolas pushed himself off the ground and into standing position. He gave a sharp hiss when his legs protested against the sudden use. He waited for the burning sensation to diminish a little before leaving his tent.

He nodded wearily at the Rider who stood outside his tent. The stars were out, but the moon had hidden himself. The men had lit small camp fires. Legolas' own tent was around one such fire. Éomer and Gamling's tents were opposite to his and on the other side of the fire. He spotted Gamling sitting with a group of men, smoking as they around the camp fire.

"You do not look so graceful tonight, Master Elf." Gamling called out when he saw the elf coming (or limping) towards him.

"I do not feel graceful." Legolas answered, stretching and contracting one of his legs in a vain attempt to bring back some feeling. "What is for supper?"

"Meat," Gamling answered.

"Raw?" The elf joked.

"Fortunately cooked." Gamling replied, laughing.

"Wonderful, but where is your king?"

"Last I saw him, he was sitting on a rock at the edge of the camp."

"The poor rock."

"He is not that large."

"Says the man who is larger."

"Go away and annoy Éomer would you?" Gamling advised him. "Leave me be."

"Fine but I will come back to eat."

Legolas offered the old man a quick smile before slipping away.

Éomer really was sitting on a large rock, his legs stretched out before him. He was wearing his armor, the King's cloak sitting on his wide shoulders. He held a wine skin in his hands.

"Did I not tell you to keep away from that?" Legolas gestured towards the wine skin as he came to stand beside him. Éomer looked up to regard the elf. Legolas added, "But just this once, I am letting it go without revenge. Hand it over and let me have a sip."

"Tired?" Éomer asked sympathetically, holding out the item.

"Not really, I believe I am just stiff." Legolas answered, taking the offered wine skin. He took a grateful sip. "How are you feeling?" He asked back.

"Tired, but content."

Legolas raised an eyebrow and Éomer strove to elaborate, "I did not feel much of a use there in the study. I wanted to do something for my people and that did not mean going through reports from other lords and marshals. I wanted to personally come and help. And I can do that now."

"If Éothain mothers you again, please; feel free to ask for my help. I am ready to knock sense into him one more time, so to speak."

"You needn't have hit him to get your point across."

"I prefer to use the most direct and the quickest method."

"I noticed," Éomer said dryly.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence.

"Tell me about yourself." Éomer asked suddenly.

Legolas raised an eyebrow and sat down on the large rock beside him.

"What do you want to know?" he asked once he was comfortable.

"Anything," Éomer answered.

"I will tell you on the condition you would tell me something about yourself."

"You have yourself a bargain."

"You start first." Legolas said, leaning back on his bands as he gazed up a the stars.

Éomer was quiet for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

"I was born in Aldburg in the Third Age."

"I was born in Mirkwood in the beginning of the Second Age."

Éomer smiled, and said, "I loved to swim in the rivers when I was a boy. My nurse found it hard to keep up with me."

"I loved to climb the trees when I was young. My father used to worry endlessly that I might fall. Sometimes he climbed to catch me, but I always jumped to another tree before he could."

Éomer was starting to warm up to their game. "I had killed my first orc when I was sixteen summers."

"I had been a century old when I killed a fell creature for the first time."

Éomer's smile faded. "My father died in battle."

Legolas looked just as grim. "I lost my grandfather in the first wave of attack in the Last Battle of the First War of the Ring. I was there when my father came to the throne."

"My mother succumbed to grief."

"My mother was weary of this world." The elf said. Éomer looked at the elf questionably. Legolas explained, "My mother loved the forest of Mirkwood, but she was dismayed at the darkness falling upon it. She heard about the never-ending forests beyond the Sea and set sail."

"Your father did not follow her."

"It was not his time." Legolas said simply. He paused and added, "I think he wanted to. He could have handed kingship to me and set sail. I was old enough, a full-grown elf."

"They say I am like my father. From what I hear, my father had the same humor, the same spark of life. My father wanted me to live a carefree life, just the way he had, as far as it could be possible."

"Tell me about your forest."

"Well, it is dark. And sinister. Most of the travelers shy away from our forest."

"What a wonderful jolly place."

"Do not be mean," Legolas said, laughing. "But if you go past the darkness in the forest and survive the spider webs, you found my father's halls deep within the trees. The fortress is heavily guarded but despite the alert watch, we have lively parties and feasts every night. My father goes out to hunt with the others for the meat to be cooked for his large banquets. There is great merrymaking and laughter and singing. The cooks light up these great big fires for cooking. All hands are welcome in the kitchen. We need all the help we could get. Everyone attends, dressed in their best. There is no need of protocol and division of class. All of them are equal, forgetting the darkness within are borders."

"It sounds wonderful." Éomer said quietly. "You miss your father."

"Is it really that obvious?" Legolas asked wryly. "Aye, I do. He is my dear friend, my support as I am his."

"Tell me more."

"Tell me more." Legolas mimicked. Éomer grinned and opened his mouth to speak.

Whatever he had to say was interrupted when a rider ran up to them.

"My lords," he exclaimed. "We have a rider coming to us. It must be important, judging from his haste."

"And just when we were about to have supper." Legolas complained. Éomer laughed.

"No rest for the wicked," the young king told him as he got up.

They followed the man to where they had seen the rider approach.

"Strange," Legolas murmured, frowning. "That rider seems familiar-" The elf suddenly tensed. "His horse has no saddling gear. That rider is an elf, and of my escort no less. What troubles have they got themselves into now?"

Legolas rushed forward, followed by Éomer and Gamling.

"What are you doing here?" Legolas demanded when the horse came close.

"You are very hard to find." Arandur said when he spotted his superior, his voice weary. The wood-elf was bowed in his seat, his hair in windblown from his gallop. The horse looked the same, its sides heaving.

"Get down from there before you hurt yourself." Legolas said, reaching forward with his hands.

The words barely left his lips when Arandur slid off his horse. The men around him gave a cry but Gamling caught the tired elf before he took a painful fall.

"You really are tired." Legolas said worriedly. "You must rest."

At that, Arandur shot awake.

"Nay, I cannot." Arandur exclaimed. "I have a message. Éowyn-"

"What of my sister?" Éomer asked, suddenly alert.

"Éowyn was attacked some two and a half days ago. She took a dagger to her side. Lady Winflead calls for her brother..."

The rest of his words were lost when Éomer roared out at his éored. The Riders of Rohan were scrambling to dismantle the camp before Éomer even completed his sentence. They too were worried for their lady.

They were going back to Edoras.

**~S~**

_Author's Note:_

_Oh dear... What have I done here..._

_If you kill me, you won't find out what happened._

_If you flame me, I just might update faster. :P_

_Do leave a review._

_Replies to reviews for previos and this chapter:_

_emi:_

_1. Haha, Legolas' needing his wealth... you will have to wait for the sequel!_

_2. And about Romance, it is just that I think the beauty of marriage just lies between the couple. It seems more... I do not know the word. That is why I always like Eomer and Lothiriel because we do not know much about them and it keep the mystery more. I like to keep it like that. I have no idea if it makes any sort of sense. I always ramble when I speak my mind._

_3. And the heir thing... xD_

_4. The cloak is done for now, with a last touch coming in the few chapters. _

_5. Oh, the half-written sentence. I had no idea until you pointed it out. Thanks!_

_6. Hey, emi, is Eomer more in character or is he too humorous?_

_Sandy-wmd: _

_I am glad you agreed on the exclusion of interrogation and execution. I had been worrying if it was alright. By the way, is Eomer ok?_

_annafan:_

_I am glad you are enjoying my story. That fact makes me happy, that someone is reading and taking the time to review it. I know you were merely commenting on the cloaks, but I am glad you pointed it out so that I could remove any misunderstandings others might have. Besides, I have that high sense of honor. I had to tell others too. :P_

_1monster2:_

_I am glad you enjoyed that one. Yes, it was my favorite part too! :D :D_


	17. Chapter 17

_Author's Note:_

_Thank you for the overwhelming support, guys. :)_

_I think I updated quicker because of the reviews. :D_

**~S~**

Chapter 17

It was the sixth day of their journey back to Edoras. In any moment, they would have Edoras in sight. Well, only the men, for Legolas' superior eyesight had seen Edoras some days before.

"How many chances are there that the lady had done something in your absence that accounted for such an attack?" Gamling asked grimly, bringing his horse beside Éomer's.

"If I know my sister well (which unfortunately, I do) then it is most probable."

"I think my escort has done something as well." Legolas put in. He ran his hand over Arod's neck in a silent urge to make the horse go faster. "I ask Arandur what had happened but he refused to give me an answer. I think my escort and Éowyn had been up to something."

"I turn my back on my sister for one moment…"

"I leave my escort for one moment…" Legolas said just about the same time. The two royals glanced each other, surprised before they exchanged a look of understanding.

"Well, nothing can be done until we come to Edoras, I believe." Éomer said, his horse ascending the slope.

"Take a look." Gamling said, once they came on top of the hill. "There our city stands."

Sure enough, once they reached the top of the hill, Edoras came in full view. An hour's more ride and they will be at the gates.

"Let us hurry. I am going mad with not knowing." Éomer muttered, nudging Firefoot to a gallop with his heels.

oOo

They entered the gates when the sun was reaching its zenith. The people milled about the arriving éored. Families raced forward to welcome their coming men. Advisors raced down the steps to speak to the king.

"I have not come to hear your confounded speeches." Éomer growled, handing the reins to a nearby stable hand. "Where is Winflead?"

"Up upon the platform, awaiting you," a servant answered once the advisors moved back. Beckoning at Legolas to follow him, Éomer started to climb the steps.

"_Oh no, you do not."_ Legolas said, catching hold of Arandur's collar when the latter tried to disappear discretely into the mass of horses and men. _"You are coming with me. You, I and my escort will have a little chat."_

"_I was afraid you would say that." _Arandur mumbled, freeing himself from his superior's grasp. Straightening his tunic, the Ranger followed Legolas.

The two elves quickly climbed up the stairs, easily catching up with Gamling and Éomer.

"Well met," Lady Winflead said, offering Éomer the cup. Other women came forward, offering cups to others.

Éomer took the cup and after just a sip, handed it back. "My sister? Where is she?"

"She is well." Lady Winflead said, noting that the elves did the same as Éomer. "She is out of danger, of that I assure you."

"The child-" Éomer asked as Winflead led them into the Hall.

"The midwives have checked. The healer had said that the injury is only of the flesh and the dagger did not embed further. No organ was damaged, and the child is unharmed. She had been in a shock in the beginning and the babe was in distress-" Winflead noticed the bewildered look on Éomer's face and the slow smile on Legolas' face and realized the men probably did not understand that such response of the babe was normal. "In other words, she is completely fine now."

"Then why was she up here to greet me?" Éomer demanded.

"Your majesty, please, new mothers tire faster."

"I wish to see her."

"I expected nothing more." Winflead said smoothly, turning slightly. "Come, I will lead you to her."

"You must excuse me." Legolas spoke up. "I believe you should meet your sister on your own. It will ease your heart and hers. As for myself," Legolas said cheerfully, placing an arms around Arandur's shoulders. The Ranger grimaced and tried to keep an expressionless face as Legolas' hand tightened painfully over his shoulder. "I wish to have a little reunion of my own with my escort. I trust they had been… busy in my absence."

"_You are coming with me." _Legolas growled in Sindarin, not waiting for Éomer's reply and pulling the Ranger with him to the corridor leading to their rooms.

"_You make your wishes most obvious." _Arandur said weakly, trying not to falter as the prince dragged him.

oOo

"_Look who is back." _Nimon said tiredly, looking up as the door burst open to reveal their annoyed prince and a grimacing Arandur. Turning to Arandur, he further asked, _"Could you not keep him away for another day?"_

"_Why, so I get scolded in your place?" _Arandur snapped, rubbing his bruised shoulder once Legolas released him. _"I will not take any scolding or punishments on your behalf!"_

Now Legolas was sure that they been up to something.

"_Where are the others?" _he asked.

"_In the other rooms," _Nimon answered.

Raising his voice, Legolas called, _"I am taking off my cloak in one moment. Anyone who does not appear by the time my cloak is off will be given a patrol for an indefinite period of time away from our city once we return to our forest!"_

That did the trick. Legolas' cloak barely left his shoulders when the room was suddenly full of elves that had scrambled to get there fast.

"_I knew you would see it my way." _Legolas said, calmly folding his cloak. Once he had placed the cloak on a table, he turned towards his escort.

The elves stood in front of him, except of Dorián who was seated on one of the chairs. He looked well; his skin now glowed with health and life as elves are wont to do. His injured arm was in a sling but undoubtedly healing, otherwise Dorián would have been bedridden still. He was quiet, slightly assessing everyone with his gaze that was once again keen as it used to be.

Legolas' eyes shifted towards his escort. They all looked well. There was no sign of weariness. No one was forcing himself to stand which would have suggested a poorly concealed injury. Even Arandur looked well, who had rested along the way.

Legolas' gaze shifted around the room. It was the same way as it was when he had left for the journey. There was a little scatter of things here and there but otherwise clean and tidy. An open book rested on the table beside the chair on which Nimon had been sitting. But besides that, nothing was out of the ordinary.

Legolas quietly walked towards the large wardrobe. They had shared the wardrobes among themselves. He opened the large doors and inspected the insides. The saddlebags were arranged neatly on the floor of the wardrobe. Some of the clothes hung from the protruding hooks. Other clothes were folded and placed in the shelves beside it.

In other words, everything was ordinary.

A little too ordinary, Legolas thought grimly.

He closed the doors and turned around to face his escort.

"_Alright," _He said finally. _"Tell me where you went. I deserve to know where you left parading off to in my absence."_

"_What makes you think we went anywhere?" _Caldor asked innocently.

"_Do not pull that innocent look at me!" _Legolas said irritably. _"I know you well, Caldor. You forget I have been your commander for the past age. Now tell me where you have been!"_

Callon opened his mouth to answer, but silenced when Fion placed his hand on his large shoulder.

"_If you know us well, my former apprentice, then tell us where it is most likely for us to go." _The veteran said.

"_Well, we share the same lively spirits as you." _Nimon put in, warming up to Fion's idea. _"What would you have done, in our place and when Éowyn was the lady in charge of Edoras?"_

Legolas looked at one elf then at another. His company was now grinning back at him, even Dorián had a slow smile forming on his face.

"_You are playing a prank on me." _Legolas decided, but frowned to think.

If he had been left in Edoras the way he had done with his escort, he would undoubtedly be annoyed by the notion. He would have probably sulked in the first two or three hours. After that he would (hypothetically) look for some way to take vengeance. But for that, he would need allies. And since Lady Éowyn would be in charge…

Legolas groaned aloud and sank his face in his hands, _"Please tell me you did not do what I think you did."_

"_What did we do?" _Arandur asked.

Legolas slowly looked up. His escort stood, shoulder-to-shoulder, grinning shamelessly now. They were making him pay, oh yes they were making him pay. This was their defiance against him.

"_You rode out, did you not?" _Legolas said, slowly assessing them. Their wide grins were wider, suggesting that he was on the right tract. _"Éowyn would have retaliated against her brother by sending an éored towards the opposite side of the kingdom. Of course there was no way, Éomer and I could have covered the kingdom in a few more months. She sent an éored out to cover the other half of the kingdom. If it were me, I would have done it soon after we had left. and since the work in Medusled had been done, she would have asked you to join the leaving éored."_

"_And since she is the lady in charge, how could we refuse?" _Nimon drawled.

Legolas whirled about at Dorián. _"I cannot believe you were in on this."_

"_Do not pin this on me." _Dorián protested. _"I was not in favor of this in the first place."_

"_Bah!" _Caldor said. _"The only reason why you were not in favor of it was because we had left you behind!"_

"_You left a comrade-in-arms behind?" _Legolas asked furiously, turning on Caldor. The latter gulped.

"_We did not leave him behind alone." _Arandur added hastily. _"Bregon was with him."_

"_Wonderful," _Bregon murmured at the Ranger. _"Set your prince at me so that you yourself would remain safe."_

"_Sorry," _Arandur hissed back, embarrassed.

Bregon took a step back once he felt Legolas' eyes at him.

Legolas' keen gaze did not miss Bregon's hiss of pain.

"_You are hurt." _Legolas noted. He went forward and grabbed the healer's arm to guide him to a chair. _"Enough jokes, all of you. Tell me what happened."_

"_You will be angry at us."_

"_Oh, I am angry now." _Legolas assured them, his brow creasing when Bregon sat heavily in a chair. _"Stop dawdling and tell me. Otherwise I will look for more painful and tedious punishments than those that I have currently in my mind."_

"_Nothing eventful happened during our travel, of that we assure you." _Callon said.

"_Consider me __not__ assured." _Legolas replied. _"But I will take your word for it for the moment. On your head be it if I find it otherwise. What happened here in Meduseld while you and I were absent?" _Legolas asked. _"In fact, Bregon will answer my question."_

"_A messenger appeared ten days ago, bearing news for Lady Éowyn." _Bregon said. _"She invited him into the household. He was courteous at first, and we had no reason to suspect him. He stayed for two days, giving her news about her husband. On the third day, he had come to her to ask leaver from her. We had been in the back gardens at the time. She turned away to pick up her shawl when I noticed that he was hiding a dagger under his cloak."_

Bregon's face darkened. _"Lady Éowyn's back was turned when the man attacked. But I got in the way, and the dagger was taken into me instead. He had another with which he attacked the lady. He could not get away, for the guards were alerted from the racket. The rest I do not know."_

"_When I had awakened, they told me the lady was safe and the man was in prison, awaiting trial. Lady Winflead was now the Head of the household. She was at a loss of what to do. Luckily, our comrades were returning that day and when they had arrived, Fion sent Arandur to you to call you back. And you are here."_

Legolas mulled over what Bregon had said. Why would the messenger attack Éowyn?

"_Why did you not suspect the man earlier?"_

"_We had no reason to. He seemed to bear resemblance to Aragorn."_

Legolas was instantly alerted.

"_How so?"_

"_He was fair of face, with black hair and grey eyes. He said to have come from Gondor."_

Gondor…. Instantly, Faramir's words came crashing down upon him.

_I have made plenty of warm enemies during my current campaign. I want my beloved to stay out of reach, where nothing may harm her or my child…._

Legolas straightened from where he had been bending over Bregon. Fool, he thought dizzily. He had not made anything of it. He was so sure that Éowyn would not come to harm. He had forgotten to mention it to Éomer. And Éowyn would have paid the price.

"_You are not angry on our going, are you?"_

"_I will talk to you about that later." _Legolas replied distractedly. _"But for now, I wish to see that Éowyn is well from my own eyes."_

oOo

Legolas knocked on the door. A maid opened the door. Legolas gave a bright smile.

"I am here to request Lady Éowyn's presence."

"My lady Éowyn is indisposed at the moment." The maid protested.

Indisposed is a big word, Legolas thought fleetingly.

"I am sure she wouldn't mind my coming."

A voice called from behind the maid with a mixture of amusement and annoyance in it.

"For pity's sake, Brunhilda, you have kept me in this chamber for a week. I am sure I can manage some audience. Allow the prince of Mirkwood in, I order you."

"Whatever my lady wishes," the maid said, sniffing disdainfully as she let the elf in. Legolas kept his face carefully clear of any smile; it seems he is becoming well-known for his mischief!

The maid guided the prince through the lady's sitting room and into her bedchamber. Éowyn lay back on a heap of pillows, her hands placed elegantly upon her abdomen. She was more prominent than the last time he had seen here.

Éowyn raised a hand to greet him, "Well met, my lord."

"This was a wonderful welcome." Legolas teased, bending to kiss her hand. "It is Legolas, by the way. And my father insists to call our forest Eryn Lasgelen from now on. Our forest has changed since the War."

"Eryn Lasgelen." Éowyn repeated the foreign words slowly. "Those words will need some getting used to… Legolas. And as for the welcome," Éowyn said wryly, shifting a little in her place. "Well, you refused to let me ride with you."

"That is not funny." Legolas mumbled, sitting down on the edge of the bed and blatantly refusing to sit on the chair the maid had offered by doing so. Brunhilda looked furiously at him.

"You may leave us, Brunhilda." Éowyn said.

"But my lady… it is not proper for an unmarried man-"

"Are you suggesting that I am capable of illegitimate actions?" Legolas asked seriously, an underlying tint of anger present in his voice. Like most elves, he too was easily offended if accused for such actions.

"Of course not," The maid said hastily. "What I meant was-"

"You can go," Éowyn said quietly.

Thankful for the excuse, the maid left… or fled.

As soon as she did, Éowyn burst out laughing. "You have certainly frightened her! The gossip will be everywhere before tomorrow."

"And in most twisted form," Legolas said, still staring at the entrance where the maid had fled through. "The nerve of that woman! And how did she know I was unmarried? The only times I have spoken of it was in Sindarin and with my companions."

"The maids have a way of knowing everything. But come! That is not what I wanted to speak about. Tell me about my beloved country. How does she fare?"

"Are you sure you are up to it, my lady? I was told you were indisposed at the moment." Legolas said, grinning. Éowyn fell for the bait. Enraged, she opened her mouth but Legolas interrupted, laughing, "Stay! Hold your tongue! I will tell you all."

He spent an hour or so explaining her everything.

"It seems rather grim," Éowyn said once he had finished.

"It does indeed." Legolas agreed. "But wait yet a while! It did both your brother to see his people as it did to the people to see him. It was more important to give support than it was to provide aid."

"And yet aid has its own place and significance." Éowyn answered. "Our people cannot survive on hope and the king's worded support alone in the coming winter."

"True," Legolas conceded. "And the grain will come. But first, tell me about yourself. Are you well?"

"Very well," Éowyn said. She took one look at Legolas' skeptical face and laughed. "Truly, I am well."

"I know about the attempted assassination, my lady."

Éowyn's smile faded and one hand went to her wounded side and another over her stomach. "I had not realized that his intentions were otherwise." She said slowly. "He seemed to have come in good will. I had only turned to pick up my throw from the chair when-" She closed her eyes. "Master Bregon took the dagger for me. Is he well?"

"I had not the time to see him, my lady. But I hear he is doing well."

"I was in so much shock when it happened. But the strangest thing is," her brow furrowed. "I had not been at fear of death, nor did I welcome it as I surely would have done back in my days of despair during the War of the Ring. I had one fear and that was only for my child. I love it truly, and I was afraid my life's end would mean the end of its life as well."

Legolas remained silent, letting Éowyn work out her feelings.

"My heart no longer despairs as it once did. And I look forward to each day. And where I once hated the thought of being left behind and tending to those who were not there, I accept it with ease. I seem to have changed, but I am not against this change. Married life has changed me, it seems. I am more content."

"If you are trying to preach marriage to me on Fion's behalf, you are failing miserably."

Éowyn gave a laugh.

"I will not do anything of the sort."

"Women are more into matchmaking than men."

"I will not, I swear! But tell me truly, is there no one?"

"There is, or was once, but it was so long ago that I do not know anymore." Legolas said, his smile fading a little. "But come, I am not here to discuss half-forgotten loves. When do you plan to leave this room? You look pale, as if you are a golden flower who had not enough sunlight."

"As much as I love to leave this room, I realize the truth in my maid's words." Éowyn said wryly. "I tire easily now. I can barely walk the length of my rooms without support."

"Why am I here then?" Legolas asked. "Permit me, then. I will carry you if you wish. I know of a perfect place which I am sure you will enjoy."

"Winflead and my brother will have your head."

"The place is concealed too." Legolas assured her, laughing.

"The offer is tempting-"

"Wonderful," Legolas interrupted, getting up from the edge of the bed. He bent over her hand, kissing it swiftly and backed away. "Be ready tomorrow morning and I will take you there."

"I see that you make plans on a whim."

Legolas winked as he turned away.

"Oh, my lady. That is what is special about me."

**~S~**

_Author's Note:_

_You will not find out more about Legolas' forgotten love, that is for the sequel. :P_

_Well, Eowyn is fine and I added the twist, lol._

_One important thing! I am not updating my other stories because this one is taking my time and my personal life is getting busy._

_What happens now? Wait for the next chapter._

_Replies to reviews:_

_Kapaliele: I am glad you love this story. It Makes me smile when I know others enjoy my work and take the time to leave a review. I don't think my other stories are good as this one, though. Personally speaking. Actually I give my time to this story and my other stories require loads of editing. :P_

_Gimlifan8: You made my day with that comment. lol._

_My God, did I really say that? :P _

_My apologies. At that time, I had chosen another way to take this story but I took this way at the last minute. :D But I am glad you are still enjoying it. But it is still light hearted, no? I think it had a little less heartache than the first case._

_emi: Do I? I had not realized that I injure people at the last part of the chapter. But I could not have posted it in the middle because according to the timeline and the situation, I could not break the chapter anywhere else. Sorry about that._

_As for Faramir... we will see. Maybe, I might make him different. xD_

_annafan: Not really a Legomance fan here, lol. A hint is fine but too much of it does not work for me. I was interested before but now there are so many that you can't find the good ones anymore._

_About the cloak- how about we forget it? It did not seem overcritical to me. I thought it was fine. But Let us just start fresh? ;)_

_And by the way, which sci fi novel? :D I like sci fi novels._

_Ilovevollyball: I am glad you enjoy it so much that you wait for a new chapter everyday. x) _

_As for how long I intend to make it- I honestly do not have any idea. I think it will be as long as thirty chapters. I break up the story as I go. (For example, Chapter 17 was not numbered Chapter 17 when you guys were on Chapter 6 and so on)._

_1monster2: I am glad. :D I don't that man will survive when Faramir goes after to him as well. :P_

_brankel1: She is, fortunately for me. I don't think I would have survived if I killed her off. :D :D_


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Fion shot awake. It was not the sound of an intruder that awakened him; there were none. Rather, it was the quiet that woke him up. There were no sounds of steady breathing, and he could see no forms on the bed, the couches or the floor mattresses.

"_I turn my back on you for one moment." _The veteran muttered, pushing off his blanket and eyeing the bed to find no form Dorián.

He took a moment to glance out of the window and judged the time to be somewhere in midnight. Quickly shrugging a robe on and pulling his unbound black hair from the underneath the robe, he proceeded to the other rooms he shared with the elves.

There were no elves.

Giving a growl from his throat, Fion mentally reached out and searched for the mind he sought to link with. He found it, deep within the forest and busy making plans.

_~Thranduil, you son is a menace.~ _He mentally said, not caring that he was talking to the King without an appropriate opening. Thranduil and Fion's friendship was similar to Legolas' friendship with Dorián. They needed no flowery phrases…

Fion felt Thranduil jerk in surprise, spilling ink across the papers he had been writing on.

_~Nice to see… I mean hear from you, Fion.~ _Thranduil replied, chuckling. The King dabbed a linen cloth over the surface of the papers to rid of the excess ink. _~What has my son did this time?~_

_~Your son has fled into the night! I cannot find him or my comrades anywhere! And this is all your fault!~_

_~My fault! How is this my fault, pray tell?~_

_~He is too much like you.~_

_~I was nothing like him.~_

_~You forget that I, unfortunately, know many of your exploits. I have never seen such uncanny resemblance. The same restless spirit, the same jokes, and the same look of worry…~_

_~I toned down later.~_

_~That was because you got married, then had a son and then had to rule a kingdom-in that order. Your son-~_

_~Shouldn't you be finding him?~ _Thranduil interrupted.

_~Shouldn't you be asleep?~ _Fion retorted. _~Honestly, Thranduil, I try to take care of one member of the line of Oropher and the other one is slowly trying to kill himself-~_

_~Paperwork does not kill.~_

_~At the rate you are going, it will!~ _Fion snarled. _~Now put down that quill, arrange your papers, snuff out the candle, leave the study, go to your bedchamber, change clothes, freshen up and go to sleep! And do it in that order!~_

Fion felt Thranduil's laugh vibrate through the mental link.

_~I am going, I am going.~ _The Elven King said, putting down his quill and following Fion's words to the letter. _~I miss you, my friend. Hurry back once my son's task is done.~_

_~I will. Give my love to my wife and family.~ _Fion answered, breaking the link once he finished speaking.

Deep in the King's Study in Eryn Lasgelen, Thranduil gave a smirk.

"_You are the same old and prickly elf as ever."_ Thranduil said, shaking his head.

Back in Meduseld, though, Fion was hammering on Éomer's door.

A sleepy Éomer appeared.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Somewhere near midnight, I believe." Fion answered him. Éomer groaned. "I take it Legolas is not here?"

"Nay," Éomer returned. "He did come in after supper, but I threw him out."

Fion chuckled. "Wonderful, that is what he deserved. But tell me, have you seen my escort?"

"Did they disappear?"

Fion did not get the chance to reply when a frantic maid appeared in the corridor.

"Your Majesty!" She cried in obvious relief. "You are awake."

"I noticed." Éomer mumbled.

"You must come, Sire! Lady Éowyn is missing."

At that, Éomer's eyes were wide awake.

"Not another attack-" Éomer did not finish, returning to his rooms to get his sword. Fion returned to his rooms to equip his dual knives.

When Fion came back, Éomer was already waiting.

"I am coming with you." Fion said.

"I might need the help." Éomer said grimly. "Brunhilda, come with us."

The maid went in front of them. They started with the West Wing, and the maid raced forward and opened doors.

She came back with a scream.

"Excitable, is she not?" Fion remarked.

"Lights!" She chanted, grabbing hold of Éomer. "Fell, glowing lights in the corridors. Your restless ancestors, my lord!"

"Do not be ridiculous." Éomer snapped. "You are not making any sense."

"Lights!" She shrieked in true fear and fled.

"Well, we might as well check what these 'lights' are." Éomer grumbled, unsheathing his sword.

Fion kept his silence. He had a feeling he knew just what these 'lights' are…

They separated and started to open various doors, ignoring the flickering lights hovering above them. Some doors ahead, Éomer opened one and stopped.

"Fion," Éomer called out. "I think I have found out your misplaced prince and escort… along with my sister."

Fion hurried towards him and stuck his head into the open door.

Twelve elven faces looked back at him, guilt mixed with amusement. The White Lady was reclining on the couch. She looked weary but had the same guilty smile on her face.

"What is most surprising is the fact that my housekeeper is with them." Éomer mused, sheathing his sword.

Sure enough, Lady Winflead sat on a cushion at the foot of Éowyn's couch.

"What are you doing?" Fion burst out, his eyes going back at his escort.

"Fion! What a splendid surprise! Join us." Legolas said brightly, shifting to make space.

"What mischief have you all been up to!"

"Well, Éowyn was awake because of the babe and we were awake because we felt like it and Lady Winflead was awake because Éowyn was awake and we decided to make up a gathering." Dorián explained. Nimon joined in.

"And since we did not want to wake up anyone else, we decided to come here into the West Wing and be away from other rooms."

"What about the lights?" Éomer asked. Callon cleared his throat.

"I may or may have not summoned some of our lights." Callon said, smiling mischievously as balls of light danced on his open palm.

"I cannot believe you actually encouraged this." Éomer said to the older woman, who was calmly sipping her tea.

"I had not encouraged it." Winflead answered. "In fact, I prefer not to know of what goes on around me. The lesser I know, the better it will be for everyone."

Éowyn raised a slim hand towards her brother, "Stop chiding them, brother dear. They had been good to me and eased my restlessness. Come here and sit by me."

"I cannot believe you, flower." Éomer said, taking her hand and sitting down on the floor in front of her. "To think you whisked off in the middle of the night."

"I always did enjoy a little adventure."

"Speaking of adventures," Bregon interrupted. "What were you saying, Nimon?"

"Where was I? Ah yes, so when we left for the patrol, Éowyn, Arandur here thought it wise to tease a spider-"

And so the tales went, one after another. Many of them were humorous and others were told briefly, because of their darker nature. It was Dorián who was sharing his own tale when Legolas put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. When the recuperating elf looked, Éowyn was sleeping peacefully on the couch.

"You tired her out." Éomer accused, getting up from his place and hurrying to his sister.

"Finally," Arandur commented. "We had been with her for three hours and she showed no signs of sleeping."

"Mind you," Nimon added. "She was very tired, but the babe was restless."

"I will take her back to her chamber." Éomer said, gently picking up his sister in his arms. He eyed the elves warily.

"I take it none of you are going to sleep."

"Who sleeps at night?" Legolas asked.

"Humph, fine. Meet with me in half an hour. We will compare our notes from our journeys through the kingdom."

"Not so," Fion interrupted. "My escort will sleep! I will make sure of it. You can meet later."

"As for myself," Lady Winflead said, smoothly getting up from her position and clasping her hands in front of her. "I will retire for the night now that my lady is in safe hands. I trust you all will clear the room before leaving."

With that the noble left.

"You know," Legolas said thoughtfully. "I sometimes think she is a dragon worse than Smaug."

"Forget that," Nimon said sharply. "What in Middle-Earth did she mean 'in safe hands'? Did she not trust us?"

The elves fought to stifle their laughter for the sake of the sleeping Éowyn in Éomer's arms.

oOo

"So you really are of some use." Legolas said in genuine surprise, eyeing his escort.

Éomer's lips twitched upwards. Fion, who had been explaining their own journey into Rohan, rolled up the map and gave his former apprentice a long suffering look.

"You know, Legolas, you could at least credit us for having to use our own minds."

"I did not know you all even had a mind." Legolas answered.

He swiftly ducked as Fion threw the rolled map at him. The parchment sailed over his head.

"Careful," Éomer cried, reaching forward.

"I did not know you cared." Legolas drawled, straightening.

"Oh, I do not care about you." Éomer answered, bending down to pick up the rolled map. "It is the map I was worried about. Fion's marked notes will come in handy."

"Tell me why I came to help you again?" Legolas asked sardonically.

"That was not my fault." The young king responded.

The escort, Legolas and Éomer grinned.

It had been the next day. It was sheer habit Éomer's side that he woke up some hours before daybreak and natural instinct on the elves' side that they too were awake at the time. Deciding to make use of the fact that they were all awake, they had gathered into the King's Study and exchanged notes on the matters at hand. Situation in Rohan was overall grim but not too much. It can be remedied, but it needed vigilance and quick action. They had tried to wake up Gamling to join their gathering but the weathered Rider refused, saying that they could have picked a more sensible hour.

"We need to ride out again." Éomer said, gazing at the larger map. "We have not covered everything."

"There is no more time." Fion replied, taking a quick peek out of the half-open window. The sun had risen an hour before. "You are needed here, to receive the grain when it arrives. You have yet to decide how to pay the grain."

Aragorn had given them two years' time to bring up enough money to pay the grain. It still seemed very little time but Gondor had her own debts to pay to her individual fiefdoms. She was quickly approaching a standstill in repairs and other projects due to lack of money.

"I am still thinking on the payment." Éomer assured them, absently snuffing out the candles closest to him as the sunlight poured into the study.

Legolas blew the flames out of the candles nearest to him, "Well, let us take a break for now. We have worked for- how long, Nimon?"

"Somewhere around five hours, I believe." The elf answered, opening the windows fully.

"Let us take a rest then." Éomer decided, stretching as he stepped back from the desk. "Legolas, are you coming for a ride?"

"Not this time," Legolas answered, ignoring the puzzled looks from his company. "I have some things that need my attention."

"What things?" Fion asked. "I do not know of it."

"They are private."

"Very well," Éomer said, sharing the elves' bewilderment in the matter. Legolas rarely ever answered questions so briefly. "I will ask Éothain to accompany me."

"Enjoy," Legolas called out, waving a hand as he closed the door.

There was a moment of silence before Arandur gave a whistle and said, "_How many chances are there that the entire household would be in havoc before noon?"_

"_Many, many, many," _Fion answered, staring at the door through which his charge disappeared to.

oOo

Legolas stood on the platform outside the open window, trying hard not to smile. This was preposterous! He thought with a smirk. He had never snuck into a room for decades.

Picking up a loose stone, he threw it into the window, carefully aiming to make sure that stone did not hit anything or anyone inside.

"Who goes there?" A voice asked from within.

"Your helper in your escape, my lady," Legolas answered. "May I come in?"

Éowyn appeared at the window, her eyes twinkling in surprised amusement. She was dressed in a loose black gown with a dark purple robe. She seemed much more comfortable now then she had seemed the day before. "Legolas, Meduseld have doors installed to the rooms."

"What is the fun of going through doors?" Legolas asked. "Is your prudish maid in the rooms?"

"She is not a prude." The White Lady protested. "But she is shrewd, on that I agree. Come in."

Legolas clasped the windowsill with his hand and smoothly swung himself in.

"Are you ready?" Legolas asked. "It is two hours after daybreak. I had thought you were a- what are those?"

Legolas stopped by the table placed in front of the fireplace. There was some sort of dish placed upon which contained a type of food that Legolas could not identify.

"Onions dipped in honey with a little bit of fruit preserves on the side." Éowyn said with an embarrassed laugh.

"What!"

"It is true."

"But my lady, is that even healthy? Is that not-"

"I am told expecting mothers often procur the strangest tastes."

"I can see that."

"I find the taste quite unique. Try some."

"I prefer to keep my stomach good and hale, my lady. And the taste should be unique, considering the uniqueness of the dish."

"It is sweet and bitter in the same time."

" I would love to argue with you on your taste but are you ready? Lady Winflead will have my head if she finds me here."

Éowyn got hold of a leather satchel and slung it over her shoulder. "I am." She answered.

"Good. Let me hold that for you." He said, taking the satchel from her. he beckoned at her, guiding her to the door.

"What? Will we not leave through the window?"

"And your brother will throw my in the dungeons to rot if you get so much a scrape. Nay, my lady, I enjoy my life." Legolas retorted.

"Where are you taking me?"

"You will see."

Legolas led her through corridors, careful to dodge any passing servants and particularly anyone he knew.

"My lord, I fear I am tiring."

"If I may, then." Legolas stopped and carefully picked her up.

They went faster that way until they reached the back of Meduseld.

"The back gardens?" Éowyn asked in disbelief. "You wanted to take me here?"

Looking at the gardens, Legolas had to admit she was right. The back gardens had been neglected until there was only wild grass, unattended flowers and dried out branches of the trees that were planted as boundaries.

"You will see. Trust me." He added, catching Éowyn's incredulous look.

He carried her to one of the trees. All of them were very old trees, though younger than Legolas himself. They were tall and their branches were spread wide and they had generous number of leaves, capable of shielding anyone from view. He did not know what the race of Men named them, and elves had never gone this far into Mannish Realms before to discover them. He had asked the trees once what they were called but the trees had given long names to themselves, such that would take Legolas years to even repeat it all.

Legolas came closer and touched the trunk of the tree. It rumbled sleepily and its roots poked out of the ground.

_~Who dares disturb my sleep?~_

_~A friend,~ _Legolas replied through the mental link. _~I came to you not long ago, asking if I can bring a friend here.~_

With that, the tree moved its branches with more speed.

_~Ah, the child of the Elder Race!~ _It said, more awake now. _~Come, come, you are welcome here. Up on my branches you go.~_

_~My friend will not be able to climb as I would.~_

_~Then my branches will lower for her.~_

"Incredible," Éowyn breathed. The slim branches lowered down, weaving open themselves and becoming stronger than they could ever be if they had been apart. It formed a rough seat, some feet off the ground but still reachable.

"Go on," Legolas nodded towards it. "Do not worry, it will not drop you."

_~If you drop her, I will chop your trunk with a blunt axe.~ _Legolas added silently to the tree, gently guiding the White Lady to the seat.

_~I thought you trusted me.~ _The tree protested, lifting Éowyn up once she was seated.

_~I do,~_ Legolas assured him. _~I just wanted you to know how much.~_

The tree rumbled as it lifted Éowyn up; it sounded almost like laughter.

Legolas scrambled up the tree, and settled down on one of the branches near Éowyn's seat.

"What a wonderful view." Éowyn murmured, looking out through the leafy screens about them.

"And well-concealed," Legolas added. "Enjoy the freedom, my lady. Winflead will not let you out of her sight after this one."

"You know very well how to ruin a good mood." Éowyn said, sitting back comfortably. Legolas smiled and leaned his back against the large trunk and straightened his legs on the protruding branch.

"My satchel, if you please."

"Of course."

Legolas handed her the leather bag. "May I ask what is in there?"

Éowyn lifted the flap of the bag and took out layers of parchment.

"My drawings. I found them some days ago."

Legolas looked at one and then the others.

"Éowyn, these are exquisite."

"It has been a long time since I had drawn." Éowyn said thoughtfully, tracing a drawing of her brother in combat with another Rider. "In the recent years, I had wielded a sword and looked after the household more than I had used a block of charcoal."

"You may have time now to draw yet. The war is now over."

"Did you have any talent that you wished to pursue?"

"I am afraid my life had been a whirlwind of activity. I had not the time to pursue many of the arts my people take great interest it. Military world has ever been my life."

He handed her back the parchment.

"I had wanted to ask; how is it that your people know how to use magic while I did not see you use any?"

"My father and I are not Silvan elves." Legolas answered. "We come from an ancient city known as Doriath but had left when the city was torn and destroyed by a long term enmity with another of our race. We came here, then, to Mirkwood where my grandfather became the King and leader of the Wood elves. Now, the wood elves know magic of many levels; that includes combat, healing, simply spells and complex spells. However, my father and I can only mind speak among other things. As for myself, I am not truly a Sindarin. I share Silvann blood from my mother's side."

"And yet no power over magic?"

"To some degree, I do have the power. But it does not have the power as the same as my people. And what of you? How come you know Sindarin?"

"My uncle was adamant that Theodred, Éomer and I learn Sindarin. We had tutors from Gondor. We share Gondorian blood from our grandmother, Lady Morwen. It was our uncle's wish that we share at least some sort of connection with our grandmother."

"I see. What was your grandmother like?"

"I do not know. She had left after my grandfather had died. But they say she was taller than most of the Rohirrim. My brother had inherited her great height and size."

"That is not the only thing he had inherited."

Éowyn looked at him questionably.

"Your brother is strong and resolute. He is intelligent and quick in learning. I only needed to guide him a little and he had made his own path from there."

"And yet he has also inherited my father's temper and rashness."

"Those things will dim in time under the pressure of kingship. But come! Tell me about yourself? What of you?"

"What of me?"

"You speak of how your brother resembles your ancestor, but what of your resemblance to them."

"Well, I am the only female alive of the House of Éorl." Éowyn said, thoughtfully. "You noticed, did you not?"

"I… gathered that."

"Hm," Éowyn smiled. "I had not always been headstrong. Stubborn, yes, I am very stubborn. But I had never been one to give into despair. But when my father's body had passed in my sight, hewn and bloodied, and then watched my mother slowly give away to grief such that she refused to speak or eat… well, it had changed me." A leaf fell from one of the branches near Éowyn. She caught it before it went out of reach. "I think my brother had it easier than I. At least he could ride out and escape the suffering and the slow decay of the House of Éorl. But for me, I had no escape. Every day, I had to tend to my uncle. Mind you, I did not mind but Grima's words were like poison and the days seemed to go ever darker. I am sorry," Éowyn said, realizing that Legolas had grown silent. "I am speaking of terrible things this fine day, am I not?"

"I would not blame you." Legolas replied quietly. "The horrors of war will take some time before we could shed them off completely."

"You seem to speak from experience." Éowyn spoke hesitantly.

Legolas reached over and gently took the leaf form Éowyn's grasp. Spreading his palm and resting the leaf on it, he blew the leaf away and watched it sail over to the ground below.

"It was the Last Battle of Firsgt War against Sauron." He said finally. "My father had not wanted me to join but in such a great battle, they needed all the leaders and I was a full-grown and experienced elf, in spite of what my father may think. My grandfather, Oropher, had been the King then. In the first wave of the battle, my grandfather had ridden out into the battlefield. Two hundred elves against an army of darkness, and only three came back. Two elves returned, carrying my grandfather's body between them. My father was beside himself with grief, but Celeborn, Gil-Galad, and Elendil were in need of him. In a way, my father too came to the crown on the battlefield like your brother did."

"I had to be my father's support and left my post as a Commander to be my father's advisor for the time being. I do know what it feels like to stand behind someone all day. It is not that you hate the job or someone is forcing you to do it."

"It is only the wait that causes it to be more unbearable." Éowyn finished.

"Exactly," Legolas said. "It is that feeling of stagnancy, that feeling that you are only stuck in time, neither moving forward or backward."

Éowyn and Legolas shared the companionable silence, which was broken only from the distinct shout from the Golden Hall.

"We should go. I think they have found out you are missing." Legolas said, grinning as he peered through the leaves.

"You will find it a hard task to get me down." Éowyn said, stifling a yawn. "I feel so lseepy."

"Go to sleep, Witch-King Slayer. I will carry you."

_~Put her down.~ _Legolas instructed mentally to the tree. _~And remember what I said about the axe.~_

_~I am lowering her gently.~ _The tree protested as Éowyn was lowered to the ground.

Legolas carried her easily into the building. He took alternate routes whenever he felt someone coming his way until he reached her bedchamber.

"Success." He murmured, kicking the door open.

It was thankfully empty. He lowered her gently on the covers of her bed, and placed her leather satchel on the bedside table. She was fast asleep.

"Mothers seem to go through lots of pain for their children." Legolas said to the satchel. "I do not think I would be so willing to forego a good night's rest."

He left silently, using the door this time.

oOo

It was fun seeing everyone's face when Winflead found that Éowyn was safely asleep in her bedchamber. Suspicious glances immediately went towards Legolas, but the elf kept a surprised face.

"Well," he had said in mild (pretended) astonishment. "The maids really overlook things, or people, don't they?"

Still, Éomer was not fooled and in retaliation dragged the elf to visit the dungeons and the certain Gondorian killer.

Now, Legolas rubbed the back of his neck as he eyed the prisoner within the cell.

"He is a Gondorian, alright." Legolas muttered under his breath, too low for any mortal to hear.

Aloud, he spoke. "Do you know who it was whom you were trying to kill?"

As he came to expect, the man gave no answer but continued to pace the length of the cell.

"He will not speak," Éomer whispered to him. The young king placed his heavy hand on Legolas' shoulder and guided him away from the cell. Once they left the corridor, Éomer spoke in his normal volume.

"I do not know why. But he had only request Faramir's presence once before I had arrived. He has not spoken to me or to my advisors or even to anyone who has a direct relation to me."

"What do you intend to do?" Legolas asked.

Éomer was about to reply but stopped. Legolas was looking strangely at him. Those blue eyes were boring into his own, pleasant and serious as always in situations like these. But it felt as if that elf was testing him… assessing him…

"That is for Rohan and Gondor to decide." Éomer said finally.

Legolas gave a small smile and the young king knew he had passed whatever test the elven prince had put up for him. _Well done,_ the smile seemed to say.

"You wanted to see what I would say," Éomer guessed. "You wanted to know how I would react; whether I would tell you or not."

"A good king never tells his internal affairs with another kingdom to a visiting monarch of another country." Legolas said, gesturing so that they could continue walking. "It is not a question of mistrust, it is a preservation of the king's own respect and dignity and the one with whom he has issues with. Well done. You do not depend wholly on me. That is good."

"Wonderful. But please do not test me again."

"Why ever not?"

"I do not know what you would have in store for me the next time."

Legolas laughed. "Come, come, we are getting late."

oOo

It was twilight when the two royals left the dungeons. The sky was turning pink and purple and the air was humid.

Éomer sniffed the air. "There is a storm coming."

"You and your kingdom's unpredictable weather," Legolas muttered. But he was genuinely impressed. Éomer's training and experience in the field had given him an acute sense of foresightedness.

"The heat will let up in the coming few days."

"It had better," Legolas said, smiling about as they passed people when they trudged up the slope towards Meduseld.

They made it into Meduseld to find Éothain sitting with the elves and exchanging news.

"Where were you?" Fion asked once the two monarchs reached them.

"We were visiting the assassin." Legolas replied.

"I take it he did not speak?"

"Not even a single word."

"I can give him a beating." Éothain said, his eyes gleaming as he cracked his knuckles.

"Absolutely not." Éomer snapped. "I happen to have a need of him yet."

"Pity," Éothain actually looked disappointed.

"By the way," Legolas said, frowning. "Where had you been, Éothain?"

"What?" The Rider asked, surprised.

"Where were you when the man attacked?"

"I was off duty at that time."

"Aye, but you normally stay in the Golden Hall even when you have no duty."

Éothain shifted uncomfortably. "Well, you see... There is this girl... I needed to talk to her parents..."

It took a while for the meaning to register. Legolas groaned aloud, sinking his face in his hands.

"Betrothals and upcoming arrivals," Legolas said miserably, his voice weak amidst the laughter from the elves. "What is this world coming to?"

"The start of a new Age, my lad." Fion said soothingly. "Do not be so alarmed. Maybe you should find yourself a wife too, Legolas."

"Over my dead body."

"That can be arranged." Fion said.

"We are getting married next year in Spring." Éothain said happily.

"I am going to hit you." Legolas said, raising his head.

"I will help you with it." Éomer grumbled, staring into his goblet. "He has been talking continuously about his betrothed. It is torture. And I cannot even marry."

"Why is that?" Gamling asked, surprised. The weathered Rider was just starting to realize that he had missed eventful first days of the elves' arrival.

"Legolas said he could not marry until his kingdom is stable again… Éomer, I mean." Éothain explained.

"But why not?" Gaming asked. "It would do well-"

Legolas did not hear the rest. Leaning back on his seat, he remembered Arwen's vision of the future of the house of Éorl and smiled.

Everything will come in time.

oOo

At night, Legolas knocked Éomer's door to bid him farewell and stopped.

"_I never knocked your door before, why am I doing it now?" _He asked in the empty corridor as he pushed open the door.

He entered Éomer's bedroom to find it empty.

"Éomer?" Legolas called.

"In here," Éomer replied it from his study. Legolas entered the study. The young king sat by his desk, his quill working furiously over the parchment. He seemed to have taken a bath; his hair was free and damp.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"I will soon."

"What are you doing?"

"Writing a letter."

"I can see that, but to whom?" Legolas said, looking slightly amused.

"Faramir."

"On what?" Legolas asked, a smile beginning to form on his face.

"I am telling him in the plainest words possible to get his sorry behind over here before I decided to come and drag him from the collar from wherever he is to Edoras."

"Very subtle." Legolas remarked, laughing.

"I learned it from a certain elf."

"I should meet him someday."

"I hope you won't. He throws people in water the first time he meets them."

"Oh, I think he and I will get along very well."

Éomer folded the letter and laughed.

"By the way," Éomer added, stretching as he got up from his chair. "I hear Silverclaw is back."

"Is she?" Legolas asked, surprised. "I had not expected her to come as of yet."

"Well, that hawk manager- Caldor, I believe his name was- said that Silverclaw is remembering you in very kind words for not telling her that she would find you here in Edoras. The bird spent the last three days searching high and low in the area surrounding Aldburg. She thought you had died."

Legolas grimaced. "Wonderful, she will not stop fussing over me now."

"That is another matter. I actually called you here for something else entirely."

"What is it?"

Serious golden-brown eyes met his.

"I think I know how to pay the grain." Éomer said.

**~S~**

_Author's Note:_

_This chapter has been updated because of a canonic mistake I had made._

_Legolas and Thranduil are Sindarin elves and their people are Silvan elves. The possibility of Legolas having black hair arises from the fact that Thranduil may have had a Silvan wife and in my stories, Legolas is half-Sindarin and half- Silvan._

_Silvan elves were known to be stranger and to have a connection with magic that is their characteristic and sets them apart from other elves._

_As for mind-speech, Legolas is shown to be capable of it, often hearing even non-living things like Stones talk and speak._

_Tolkien had said that elves were capable of mind-speech due to the fact that they were much more open than mortals. it is a very long essay but I cannot remember if it was in 'Unfinished Tales' or in his lesser known books._

_Replies to the reviews for the previous chapter will be in the next chapter. :)_


	19. Chapter 19

Important note: Please see the previous chapter's note to see an important correction of a mistake. Thanks to Gimlifan8.

**~S~**

Chapter 19

Legolas gave a loud yelp as he entered the rooms he shared with the elves. Something hard that looked like a feather-ball of silver had collided into his chest. He patted the bundle awkwardly.

"_It is nice to see you too, Silverclaw." _Legolas said weakly, closing the open door behind him.

The hawk was scrambling frantically across his chest, her talons making small tears in his cloak. One of her claws dug into his belt. Legolas stopped her.

"_None of that," _Legolas said sharply. _"The possible results for that action will be most embarrassing."_

"_Do it, Silverclaw." _Fion called out, not lifting his head from the open book in his lap. _"He deserves it."_

"_Why have you come with me in this trip?" _Legolas asked, smiling at his former mentor.

"_I question it myself." _Fion replied, turning a page.

Silverclaw shifted uncomfortably in his arms.

"_Stop that." _Legolas said crossly. _"I am fine. I am not hiding any battle wounds."_

Silverclaw stopped her scrambling. Legolas felt her tremble in his arms, her head rubbing against the fabric of his shirt.

"_You really were worried." _Legolas said, frowning slightly. _"Relax, I really am fine. Any word from my father?"_

Caldor, who was balancing his weight on the back legs of the chair he was sitting on, spoke up. _"She told me that your father said that he may be old but he is not a decrepit yet. He wishes to… speak to you personally in order to 'discuss' Dorián's case."_

"_Wonderful," _Legolas muttered. _"I might as well speak to him as well as talk to him as soon as I could."_

"_How about putting her down before leaving?" _Fion said, finally looking up from his book and pointing towards him.

Looking down, Legolas found Silverclaw fast asleep. She was bent awkwardly in his grasp, her eyes closed and her head not under her wing as her kind was accustomed to do in their slumber.

"_She really was tired." _Legolas remarked. _"Father really must have word with her to stop her from running herself to the ground." _

He handed her over to Caldor before making his way back towards the door.

"I will be conferring with my father, if anyone has a need of me." Legolas said, unknowingly shifting into the Common Tongue.

"Why not confer to him here?" Fion asked.

"I will not." The prince retorted. "It would be too embarrassing."

oOo

As he had hoped, the kitchens were empty when he entered. Making a small fire, the elf placed a pot full enough for one cup of water. Sitting down on the bare floor, the elf stared into the red and yellow flames.

His time here in Edoras was starting to become more and more comfortable. The Rohirrim still regarded him and his escort in awe. Legolas could not blame them; they all looked to be the same age with their flawless and unwrinkled faces and the way they all glowed with health and life. Gamling found it queer that Fion, who looked as if he were no more than thirty years in mortal age, called Legolas 'boy'.

Still, he was warming towards the people of Rohan as they were to him. It was not the War. The Mannish Realms were the one place where he felt out of place; here he was the odd one, the queer one. But in his stay, he and the elves had approached an understanding with the men. They worked together.

Perhaps, Legolas concluded with a small smile, there was a change in his attitude towards Éomer. They could never be close friends, there was still that reserve between them but they were comrades.

But other things still troubled him. He felt the restlessness in his heart as the sea called to him even harder. It seemed that if he missed someone as he is missing his father now, and Gimli as well, that his sea-longing pulled him closer to Beyond The Sea.

The water boiled in the pot, jerking him back to the present. He took it off and poured the water in a cup. He grimaced as he made the tea. He was never fond of tea, but the Rohirrim were. He seemed to adopting their lifestyle.

Shaking his head, Legolas reached for his cup, intending to take another soothing sip.

_~My, your mind is as cluttered as your room.~_ A wry voice commented in the prince's head. Legolas jerked in surprise, hitting his knee hard against the wooden table and his cup spilling over himself and the floor. The elf yelped in pain partly from the heat of the tea and partly from the collision with the table. His hand massaged the throbbing area.

_~You always did like a dramatic entrance, father.~_ Legolas replied with his mind, resigned.

His father chuckled through the mental link.

_~I believe I am famous for it, my lad. But tell me, a month and half has gone by and here I received none of thy letters. Am I so repulsive that you have not spoken to me?~_

_~Nay, father!~ _Legolas cried with feeling, his pain and burn forgotten.

~_So, tell me. What have you been doing as of late.~_ Vaguely, the prince felt his father move about in his study, tidying up the reports he had been reading.

_~I am afraid it is a long tale, father.~_

_~Speak.~_ The Elven King commanded, _~And I will listen.~_

And so with a mental sigh and faltering words, Legolas conveyed his father all the doings of the elves since they had arrived in Rohan. He purposely omitted the incident of Dorian's injuries. Like Legolas, Thranduil had a harsh temper; the king was fiercely loyal to his people, and while Legolas can still restrain himself in his rage, his father cannot; so deep was his love and care for his people.

When Legolas was done, his heart was somewhat lifted, as children's hearts are lifted when they speak to their parents of their troubles.

Thranduil did not speak once his son had finished. Impatient to know what the King was thinking, Legolas probed in his father's mind. To his hurt, his father was studying some reports on the activities of rogue orcs in Eastern Mirkwood.

_~You did not hear what I had said.~ _Legolas tried not to sound upset.

_~Quite the contrary,~_ the king replied firmly. _~I have listened to everything you had said.~_

_~You were follish.~ _Thranduil said finally. _~I understand that it was very like you to take off to Gondor the way you do it, but now you must understand that you are no longer alone. Your mind still thinks as if you are alone, unmindful of the danger about you. Next time you try something like that, do try and act rationally.~_

_~Yes, father.~ _Legolas mumbled. No matter how old he would get, or how accomplished, he was still a son.

_~Have faith,~ _Thranduil commented in good humor. _~You handled the situation splendidly, though I would adivse you to keep a firmer hold of that temper of yours.~_

_~What about you?~ _Legolas asked, unable to resist. _~What about the time when the hobbit Bilbo managed to free the dwarves and your temper finally broke-~_

_~That was one case.~ _Thranduil growled.

_~And the time Lord Elrond sent you the elk?~_

_~What elk?~_

_~The one you rode to in the Coming of Smaug.~_

_~That was an entirely different matter. That half-elf actually had the nerve to-~_

_~It was certainly funny.~ _Legolas said, his laughter vibrating the link. _~But I believe the joke was on him when you rode it out. I never thought you could tame it, father.~_

_~You know, son, most children have irrevocable faith in their fathers.~_

_~That is not me.~ _Legolas said, now truly laughing. _~But tell me, how goes it in the forest.~_

_~Tiring,~ _Thranduil replied. _~We are building houses outside my fortress. It is a long work but we are taking it slowly. The spiders and the other fell creatures, however, will take some time to cleanse. They are stubborn in not leaving the forest.~_

_~You will take them in time.~ _Legolas said dismissively.

_~There is something else.~_

_~Hm, and that is?~_

_~We have found the prisons of Dol Guldur.~_

_~What?~ _Legolas cried.

_~It was beyond the city of Dul Guldur and well hidden and fortified. Legolas, there were so many elves…~_

_~What is to be done with them?~_

_~Some will travel Beyond The Sea and seek aid in Valinor. Others will stay here… and live on.~_

_~Is that a wise decision? Do they not wish for peace of Valinor?~_

_~I respect their choices. And I do what we can to aid them.~_

There was a small pause.

_~Rest, my beloved son. I believe you are tired.~_ The King said.

~_Should you not retire as well?~_ Legolas said pointedly. It was well after midnight.

_~I have work to do.~_ Came the amused reply.

_~It can wait in the morning_.~ The prince said firmly. _~I will not have you overtax yourself, and your work will not run away if you leave it.~_

_~As fussy as your mother.~_ Thranduil said, chuckling. _~Rest well, little one.~_

_~As well as you, father.~_ Legolas said, cutting off their mental link and eager for a rest before the coming day's work.

oOo

Thranduil frowned as he stared ahead. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table and resting his chin on the interlaced fingers.

Talking to his son always had lifted his spirits, Thranduil thought as he allowed a small smile to wipe out his frown. It had kept the tension of his duties as a king at bay, allowing him to hold on to what strands of youth that most aged elves had long forgotten. But this time, he felt a little sorrowful.

His son's overall reaction worried him. He had noticed a distant sorrow in his son's manner. The war had an effect on him; neither he nor Legolas himself could deny that fact. And this time, it meant that it was more long lasting.

Why had his son not spoken of it to him? Thranduil wondered. He had noticed the urge of sea-longing in his son from the moment he had pulled him close when he had returned from the War. Thranduil had tried to open the conversation many times; whether Legolas had noticed it or not, he did not know but his son was a master in evading his questions. It was a like a game of chess; full of mind-numbing logic. Thranduil frowned.

He hated chess.

And even though he had always encouraged Legolas to use his head (not physically of course!), he definitely did not like it when the trick was on him, especially if the one who was using the trick was his own son.

His thoughts were interrupted by a deep, half amused and half-irritated voice behind him, _"there are two things that are interesting about the tapestry in front of you. The first is the fact that it was made by your beloved wife, the good Queen. The second is the fact that it depicts the scenery of your lost city of Doriath, from whence it came. Or perhaps the other probable reason is that it was an anniversary gift to you from your wife and her first attempts to make scenery in Sindarin style. However, I am very certain that neither of the three reasons are so that you frown."_

"_You are too good with words, Thorontur." _Thranduil said crossly. Turning, he caught the sight of his loyal head advisor standing by the door, his features carefully composed and clear of any humor.

"_And despite my talent in words, I find myself unable to convince my liege lord to take a rest." _Thorontur commented, having the nerve to walk up to his king and pull the royal off his chair. _"Come, off to bed with you. you and I will be attending yet another meeting with the delegates from the Thorin Stonehelm. Then you can stay awake as long as you want. Wait, do not do that. I cannot explain Commander Fion that our King had been killed by __paperwork__."_

"_You humor is refreshing as always." _Thranduil remarked. Thorontur was as dry in looks as his humor. Tall, thin, with features remarkably aligned to Erestor of Rivendell, Thranduil sometimes found him a little taxing. But the serious advisor was extremely loyal and sincere, oftentimes doing more than Thranduil required. The two had developed an odd friendship, a mixture of work and companionship.

Thorontur noted silently the weariness in his king's frame and the lowered shoulders that showed the burden he carried.

"_You are very tired." _Thorontur murmured, growing worried. _"You should rest."_

"_I am fine."_

"_It is what I think it is, is it not?" _Thorontur continued, following the king outside the study.

"_The sea calls for me." _Thranduil said finally. _"It had called to me from the day my wife left these shores. I would have followed if it were not for my son. I could not bear the thought of putting such responsibility upon his shoulders. I wish him to be free till he was almost my age when I had come to the throne."_

"_You forget that your son is very experienced." _Thorontur said, closing the door of the bedchamber behind as once he entered it with Thranduil. _"You cannot make your fate his. And I have the power of foresight. Your son will rule his own turf someday. Does he know of your sea-longing?"_

"_He… suspects."_

"_And do you know his?"_

"_I… suspect."_

"_You are king, and I will never know what it is to be king and I will never know the responsibilities that come with it. But I will say this; be easy, Thranduil Oropherion! The War is over. The work is there, but it will grow lesser in time. You are no longer alone. The roads to other Elven Realms have opened."_

"_Mayhap to the Mannish Realms as well."_

"_Mayhap," _Thorontur agreed. _"Take rest, and think of your wife. I will take care of tomorrow's delegations."_

oOo

"You are joking." Fion said in utter disbelief. Then he looked at one serious face of Éomer to that of Legolas. "You are not joking." He muttered.

"It can work." Legolas insisted.

"You are out of your mind!" Fion said. "Are even sure it is enough to pay the debts?"

Éomer looked towards Legolas. "You went with Gimli after the War to see the Caves, what do you think?"

"I was there to humor Gimli." Legolas confessed, grinning. "As Gimli was there to humor me in Treebeard Forest."

"We should go to Helm's Deep, then. It is the only way."

"How long will be the ride?" Legolas asked.

"It is a four hour ride to Helm's Deep." Éomer said.

"I seem to recall it longer the last time I was here."

"That was because we had women and children and wagons with us. With only the éored mounted on swift horses, we will move quickly."

"I still think this is absurd!" Fion said. "Even if there is enough gold, how do you plan to mine them? It will take too long and we do not have that kind of time."

"Oh, we have planned everything." Legolas said, casting a glance towards Éomer. "But we will wait until we go to Helm's Deep. Come with us."

"Fine," Fion growled. "But I still think it is a bad idea."

oOo

Gold and silver; Rohan had it without even realizing she did. That was not the only things she had; the Glittering Caves were full of raw jewels of ruby, emerald and others that Legolas did not know the names of. Gimli was sure to name them all and tell him how each was mined and refined.

He missed Gimli.

Legolas brought his torch higher. The red glow of the lit torch cast ghastly shadows on the rough walls, but the gleaming veins of gold and silver became more prominent in the light. The embedded gems gave the Caves its name; the Glittering Caves.

Behind him, Éothain gave a sharp whistle.

"That is a lot of gold." He said.

"Have you never come down here?" Legolas asked, stepping back from the walls of the cave.

"I spent most of my time in the green fields of Rohan, but never here." Éothain replied, stilled awed by the wealth surrounding them. "Aldburg had ever been my home."

Éomer was investigating the uneven wall opposite to them. "I do not know much of gold," he said, straightening. "Particularly raw ones, but that is a lot of gold."

"My sentiments precisely," Legolas commented. Then raising his voice, he called out, "Fion! I know you are out there. What do you think?"

"That you are insane," FIon's voice growled from the deeper caves. The veteran emerged, his youthful face looking fearsome in the poorly-pierced darkness. "But you are right. Any dwarf will be happy here."

"Well?" Legolas prodded. "Do you think it might work?"

Fion stroked his chin thoughtfully and looked about him at the wealth surrounding them. It was enough to see Rohan through for years- decades, at the very least.

"It might," Fion said slowly. "But will it happen in time? We have seeds to plant, people to accommodate before this winter and 'tis hard to see how we will get the money in time…"

"It will work," Legolas assured him. "We will see to it." Fion gave his former apprentice an annoyed look.

"If you had to go with your plan, then why did you ask for my opinion?" Fion hissed. Legolas grinned impudently.

"It was only from respect." At this point Éomer decided to step in before the two plunged into yet another one of their banters.

"We need Gimli for this project."

"Oh, we need an entire band of dwarves for this project. In fact, we need lots and lots of dwarves."

"Fion, 'tis time, it seems, to bring Silverclaw to some use. This time, I believe we will be sending her to the Lonely Mountain this time."

So it was. Once they had returned to Edoras, the elf and Éomer wrote a letter to Gimli and another to the King under the mountain, Thorin III Stonehelm, so that help may be enlisted in the project.

"I hope he accepts," Éomer said grimly as he and Legolas watched Silverclaw take flight in the air with letter in the package on her back.

"He will," Legolas replied. "This is a great project, and if Thorin shows any sort of reluctance, I am sure Gimli would push him. He had shown great love for the Glittering Caves."

"I still do not understand." Éothain complained. "What in Middle-Earth are you planning?"

"Glittering Caves have hoards of crystals, precious gems and jewels embedded in its rocks." The young king explained. "Veins of gold and silver are there as well."

"And what of it?"

"What of it! Why, Master Éothain!" Legolas said, clapping a hand on the burly soldier's shoulder. "We are going to have the dwarves mine them."

The Rider's reply was interrupted as Callon, who had been conversing with the guards below, clambered up the steps with urgency.

"_Legolas! Frostfeather returns!"_

Legolas smiled. Everything was falling into place.

**~S~**

_Author's Note:_

_I am sorry for the delay, but like I had orignially said; My life is wonderfully busy, but I do mean to complete this story._

_Another forgotten note on the previous chapter: What Eowyn said about Eomer and Morwen was true, and it was in wikipedia as well as in other resources._

_Replies to Reviews:_

_Gimlifan8: That was my mistake. I am sorry. :P I switched their races without even realizing it._

_emi: I wrote it, but it was not going with the other part of the story, so I had to take it out. :s Sorry._

_Winflead, I had not planned on that one. That one came out of nowhere, but I liked it, so I kept it._

_I think this gave half an answer on how the grain is given back._

_Hehe, I never thought of Eomer's speaking it, but now that you mention it, it would be amazing. I have to write that one! :D :D_

_Eldariel: Because Silverclaw was insisting on the letter. Later, Fion had asked for Legolas to mindspeak, but Legolas was reluctant on it. The rest is explained in this chapter. :)_

_brankel1: Thanks, :)_


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Everything was not going according to plan.

Legolas crumpled the letter in his fist, scowling at Éomer, who was sprawled on a chair. The young king had been mocking him by laughing merrily for the past fifteen minutes, wearing Legolas' patience thin.

"One more cackle out of you and I will hang you upside down from a hook." Legolas threatened, glaring at him.

Frostfeather gave an alarmed hoot.

"_Not you," _Legolas said irritably. _"I meant that large piece of butcher's meat over there." _Legolas jerked his thumb in Éomer's direction. He paused, remembering that hawks loved meat. _"And he is not food," _Legolas added as an afterthought.

"_I understand your tongue well, my friend." _Éomer said, pausing just enough to breathe and reply.

"You speak my language as a crow cackles the language of birds." Legolas replied. "And you use your nose, and your entire face contorts."

"You are just in a foul mood because things are not going according to plan." Éomer answered, unaffected by Legolas' blunt words.

"I am." Legolas retorted. "This is a catastrophe! A disaster! It will ruin everything. What use was your advisor, Cerdric if he could not avert such a major distraction?"

Cerdric was an old, white haired advisor. He was as old as Gamling, but with more knowledge and skill in negotiations. He was tall and thin, with hawk-like features and was sent to be the head of the envoy to Dol Amroth.

"He is a good man," Éomer said defensively.

"Not good enough," Legolas grumbled.

Fion chose that moment to make an entry.

"What is wrong?" The veteran asked, noticing his former apprentice's grim look.

"Take a look." Legolas replied, passing Cerdric's letter to Fion. The veteran read it quickly, fearful of some catastrophic news of the grim fates of the caravans carrying supplies against outlaws and orcs. Worse, he suspected news that Gondor and Rohan was at war on some forgotten quarrel. You could never know the minds of mortals.

He found no gruesome news.

"Legolas," Fion said, frowning in confusion. "This only bears the good news of a caravan reaching Aldburg in three weeks. Cerdric also says that more caravans will follow."

"Did you read the last lines?"

"Nay."

"Do it, then."

Fion complied. And he still found no terrible news.

"Legolas, I do not understand."

"Tell me what you have read."

"That Lady Lothíriel of Dol Amroth will be attending the first caravan as a gesture of support and aid from Dol Amroth and the surrounding fiefs. Cerdric urges to have rooms prepared for her in Aldburg and in Edoras for her stay that will be for two to three months."

"Exactly!" Legolas burst out. The elf shook a finger towards Éomer, who looked as like a cat who caught a bird. "That fool here has been grinning at me for the past hour!"

Fion was silent for a moment.

"I still do not understand." He said at last.

"Never mind," Legolas muttered.

Fion looked at the annoyed expression on Legolas' face and then at the grinning man. Then Fion's expression cleared. "Ah, I see. Well, Legolas, you cannot control fates."

"Oh yes, I can." Legolas snarled. He turned to Éomer, shaking a finger at him. "Get ready. You are not going to see the outside of this room for a while."

"You cannot do that. I am the king." Éomer protested.

"And I am older than you. Enjoy the paperwork."

Fion escaped the room before his former apprentice assigned any job to him.

oOo

Noontime in Meduseld the next day was so wonderfully quiet that Fion could hardly believe it. The elves enjoyed the companionable silence. The reason for the silence was that their prince, Legolas, was away in the King's Study, just opposite to their rooms and for once, Legolas and Éomer had (by coincidence) called for a truce and worked amiably.

Fion had indulged in idle chatter with Éothain and the Riders who had come to visit the elves in their rooms when they heard a loud crash coming from the King's chambers.

"And just when I was enjoying the silence." Fion commented wearily. Éothain chuckled.

"I would have worried if they hadn't fought yet. You cannot trust them to be safe in the same room." The Rider replied. Their chuckles were cut short when they heard Éomer's triumphant yel and a loud crashed, soon followed by the sound of breaking glass. Fion and Éothain exchanged worried glances and quickly got off their seats, picking up the pace as they neared the King's rooms.

Fion threw open the door and glanced into the Study. His expression quickly changed to shock as he took in the sight. The table that once stood in the middle of the room was overturned, maps and reports scattered over the floor, shards of glass of smashed inkpots shining dully in the sunlight coming from the opened windows. The spilled ink was rapidly being soaked up by the reports. On one corner, however, was a more astounding sight. Legolas lay on his back, Éomer on top of him.

"Legolas, Éomer!" Fion cried, stuttering in his surprise. Two guilty faces looked up at him. Just then Fion realized just what each of them was holding. Éothain looked over the veteran's shoulder and his eyes widened in disbelief.

"Éomer, can I not leave you alone for a mere moment without you trying to kill the Elven Prince. Hand me the dagger at once!" The burly Rider roared.

"Pity, I was so close." Éomer murmured, pulling himself off the elf and relinquishing his blade to Éothain.

"And you should give me your dagger as well." Fion added to Legolas, who sheepishly lowered his weapon.

Once the daggers were safely out of the two opponents' reach, Fion placed his fists on his hips and asked sternly, "Now, would you kindly explain what you two were up to?"

"Up to?" Legolas repeated.

"Up to?" The Rohirric King echoed.

"We-we, uh,"

"It was something like this-"

"I believe it started somehow-"

"I really cannot seem to remember…"

"Indeed, I find that memory always lapses when caught into some sort of mischief." Fion said dryly.

"Does it really?" Legolas asked innocently.

"I believe it is coming back somehow…" Éomer muttered. Fion was merciless. He pounced on the king's words at once.

"Really? Then do tell." Fion said, shifting to lean his weight more on one foot and gave an indulgent look.

"Ah-"

"Well-"

"It is my fault." Éomer burst out. "I tripped."

Fion eyed the smooth floor that was devoid of carpets and rugs due to the heat of the summer.

"How?" Fion asked skeptically.

"On my feet?" Éomer asked. Legolas gave a small chuckle that he quickly changed into a coughing fit. "I mean, I tripped on my feet."

"How does that explain the overturned table and the mess?" Fion asked.

"Well, when I tripped-"

"On your feet." Fion stated.

"Exactly," Éomer replied. "I tripped and I tried to get hold of something, so I grabbed the desk. But I somehow managed to disbalance it and the desk fell."

"And how does Legolas fit into all of this?"

"Well, I stumbled forward."

"Really?" Fion's voice was heavy with sarcasm. Legolas wisely did not say anything letting Éomer do the heavy (dangerous) work.

"And then I grabbed Legolas."

"I see."

"We both stumbled."

"Clumsy, are you not?"

"It comes with the size. Well, then we both stumbled to the ground."

"And where do the knives come in?" Fion asked. Éomer was at a loss.

"Warrior instincts," Legolas spoke up. The prince tried not to flinch under Fion's critical gaze. The veteran can still make his former apprentice uncomfortable in a matter of moments. "We both reacted instinctively."

"We meant nothing by the daggers."

Fion looked at one innocent face to another. "Fine," he said slowly, ignoring Éothain's forming grin. "I will let this slide once, but from now on, neither of you will be armed while working here."

"As you wish." The two royals chorused.

Éothain cast a worried look behind his back before he followed Fion to the door.

Once the door closed, Legolas rounded at the king.

"What was that about?"

"I did not know what else to say."

"I was not talking about the excuse. I am speaking about how you attacked me! I was working quietly when you suddenly launched yourself on me."

"Ah, yes. Well, I was bored."

"Bored?"

"I am a soldier, I cannot help sit still for so long."

Legolas understood him well. During their travel through Rohan, the two could usually take some time off for a ride or for a small duel before returning to their work. But here in Edoras, it seemed dull and less exciting.

"Fine, I will see what I can do. But let us finish the last report."

oOo

Back in their rooms, Fion rubbed his temples tiredly. He felt an amused chuckle vibrate in his mind.

_~I know something has happened.~ _Thranduil commented wryly. Fion searched his friend's mind, and soon realized that the king was attending a council.

_~Go back to work and leave me in peace.~ _Fion snapped. _~I will handle only one kin of Oropher at one moment.~_

_~Prickly as a thorny bush,~ _Thranduil remarked. _~Tell me what happened and I will go.~_

_~Your son is a menace and he imparts his worse characters to others.~_

_~Come now, he cannot be all that bad.~_

_~You know, usually when something suspicious happens, Legolas always had an excuse ready even if it made no sense. This time, though, he was at a loss on words and the king Éomer was the one making excuses.~_

Thranduil was about to reply but was interrupted by a question posed by one of the council members.

_~The name of the new king is Éomer?~ _Thranduil asked once he had given a satisfactory answer. _~What is he like?~_

_~Like your son.~ _Fion commented, cutting of the link.

Thranduil was so amused by the comparison that he laughed aloud in the council, surprising his subjects.

Few would understand the admiration behind the words.

oOo

"I want you to go down the training fields and practice," Legolas said when he retrieved his bow.

"Come now," Bregon said, "I doubt there is a need just yet."

"Regardless," the prince replied firmly. "I have no wish to let you neglect your main duties. You are all Mirkwood Rangers; it would not do to bring you back out of shape and out of practice."

"Your prince is right," Fion put in. "It would not do to be so out of shape here in this foreign land. We must keep our appearance."

Dorián, who sat at the window sill, added, "It would be wise, for that will maintain a level of aloofness between us and these men, particularly those who wish us harm."

Fion whipped about, glaring at the younger elf. "Oh, we will practice. But you, youngling, are going to be seating peacefully at one corner. I will not have you pressuring your arm when it needs rest."

"What?" Dorián cried, enraged. "Do not be ridiculous! I can handle archery just as fine as before."

"At the cost of an arm," Fion retorted. "Nay! My word is final in this. You will rest until I say you can handle weaponry again." Dorián and Fion glared at each other, neither willing to back down. Realizing the veteran was not about to relent, Dorián sighed and gave up. "Fine," the elf said grudgingly. "But bear in mind that I am not taking this kindly."

"You never do." Came Fion's scathing reply.

Uncomfortable by the situation, Legolas hurried to speak and divert the subject. "Then it is settled," he said. "You will go down to the grounds then." Belatedly the elf remembered the Rohirric King. "In fact, Éomer and I will join you. It will do him good to leave that study and I could do with some practice."

"Trees be witness that you need it." Fion commented dryly.

Legolas grinned at his former teacher and left the rooms and entered Éomer's chambers. Entering the rooms, he found Éomer sitting by the smaller tables, reading.

"Ready yourself," the elf told the King. "My comrades and I are heading to the training fields, and you should come with us. Fresh air and a good fight will do you good and relieve your mounting stress." Éomer smiled bitterly.

"I have a great wish to come along, but I am afraid I am not at the liberty. Éothain has banned me from fighting for the fear that I may endanger my life. I am a king after all, as my people keep reminding me."

Legolas stared at him in disbelief, "Surely you jest!"

"I assure you, I do not."

Annoyance replaced bafflement, and the elf said through gritted teeth, "Wait right there." And then the elf turned on his heel, intending to look for the King's childhood friend.

He found Éothain in the stables, organizing the horses needed for the next outgoing patrol. The elf strode inside, his loud voice declaring his entrance, "It seems that I am a nanny for naught when you are a playing nursemaid, Éothain!" The elf stopped in front of the bemused Captain. "What is this I hear about Éomer being banned from the training fields?" He demanded.

" 'Tis true," Éothain confirmed, placing his hands on his hips and facing the frowning elf.

"And what exactly banning Éomer from the training grounds would accomplish?"

"It would certainly keep him from lopping his head off."

"You cannot be serious!"

But Éothain was serious. And stubborn.

"Éothain, I would love to argue with you. But I am going to use the plainest way possible."

Legolas cracked his knuckles and launched.

oOo

"So how did you manage to convince Éothain?" Éomer asked, standing outside the practicing ring.

Legolas tightened the belts bearing his knives.

"I used a typical manner."

"Poor Éothain."

"It was his fault," Legolas retorted. "Mothering a king! The nerve!"

"The elves will not practice melee combat?"

Legolas turned to see Fion and the other elves on the archery fields. Dorián sat on a rock, talking to Lady Éowyn. The lady had felt good enough to come out for some fresh air. Dorián's mood had improved somewhat.

"They will do so after they are done with archery."

"Hm, come. Let us take our places."

Éomer led the elf to an open space in the ring and unsheathed his sword once he stood opposite to the elf.

He got no warning. Legolas slid out his knives from their sheaths just before Éomer bore down upon him.

Legolas staggered under the impact, his knees buckling ever so slightly. He looked up and saw Éomer's look of grim satisfaction.

"I am going to enjoy this." Éomer said. Legolas smirked and let his knives slide against Éomer's sword. The sound of metal against metal gave out the unspoken challenge.

"So will I." Legolas replied, lunging.

They fought for an hour until Legolas locked Éomer's blade into his knives.

Legolas' attention diverted from the locked blades to his side.

"Who is that?"

"Nice try, Legolas."

"Nay, really. I think you have a guest."

Éomer turned, expecting a joke or maybe Faramir if Legolas was not joking. But instead it was neither. A lone rider sat on a horse at the edge of the training field. He seemed tired from the way he sat in his seat. The armor, the cloak and the weaponry gave the rider away as one of the Riders.

Éomer freed his blade from Legolas' locked knives and ran across the field. Other men also noticed the newcomer and followed the king.

"What has happened?" Éomer demanded, taking in the sight of the disheveled rider. "Where are you from?"

"From Aldburg, bearing message for the king."

"Then speak up, lad." Éothain snapped. "The king is here and listening."

"Élfelm seeks the aid of his king." The rider panted, grimacing as he was helped to dismount his horse by Éomer's men. "We were bringing in more of our people into Aldburg when it happened. Orcs, hundreds of them, in the caves and deep in our forests. Breeding grounds for orcs. They killed many of our men and women and children." The rider gulped. "They were hungry and feasted… as soon as they made their kill."

Éomer uttered an oath.

"Marshal Élfhelm requests you to come bring aid to your people before the caravans arrive. We do not have many men-"

"Because we had disbanded an entire éored for rebuilding towns," Éomer muttered angrily. "Gamling was right. But why did you not check the orcs' position sooner."

"We do not have many men to cover so much ground." The rider replied. Then he swayed and would have fallen if Éothain had not raced forward to grab him.

"You are tired." Éomer said, his voice still gruff but less angry. "My sister, Lady Éowyn will provide for you."

"Aldburg-"

"Will be given aid," Éomer assured the rider. "I will ride out myself."

"Is that wise?" One of Éomer's men protested.

"I will not abandon my people." Éomer said firmly. "And my people will know that I am here to give them aid."

The king turned and left, followed by Legolas. Éothain let others take care of the rider and caught up with Éomer.

"Ready my men." Éomer said to Éothain. "We leave immediately and we will travel right towards Aldburg."

"As you wish." Éothain said, breaking into a run.

"Looks like you are going to get some practice in the field, after all," Legolas commented, turning and trudging up the slope.

"Good," Éomer replied, keeping pace with him. "I was getting tired of the paperwork."

"Killing orcs will double the amount of paperwork."

"You know, your humor makes me laugh and it also makes me want to throttle you at the same time."

"You will have to get in line. You are not the first to feel that way about me."

"So I can assume you are coming with me?"

"Of course, but first, there are some things I need to take care of."

oOo

"You want me on the field." Dorián asked in disbelief. He grimaced which earned him a sharp rebuff from Bregon.

"Hold still!" The healer said crossly. "I cannot heal your arm if you squirm."

"I apologize." Dorián said, trying not to shudder. He hated healing spells, whose effects often ranged from itchy to agonizing pain. He would rather let time heal his wounds but Legolas had other plans.

"You are the best of us in concealment and you move faster on terrain." Legolas replied, pacing impatiently in front of him. "I need you to go out and locate these orcs' 'breeding grounds' for us. Do not engage them in battle. Find out the locations and leave the rest to us. And I want you to go to the lesser towns along the border of Gondor and Rohan."

"What?" Dorián asked, startled. "What would I find there about orcs?"

"Not orcs, outlaws," Legolas corrected. " Rohan has few outlaws running amock at along her boundaries. I want you to find out their nests and give us the information. Cerdric, the advisor we sent to Dol Amroth, had said that it will take them three weeks at least to reach Aldburg, but I know caravans. They will take longer. And I want to weed out any obstacles before then."

"We will never do everything in time." Dorián protested, trying hard not to jerk his wounded arm again.

"Perhaps not, but at least we will get rid of the majority of the pests."

"I am done." Bregon announced.

Dorián cautiously moved his healed arm.

"Well," Legolas asked.

Muscles in Dorián's arm bunched and relaxed.

"Wonderful," Dorián declared, grinning. "I am ready to hunt orcs."

**~S~**

_Author's Note:_

_I am noticing the few reviews. Is the story is getting to boring or old?_

_By the way, there was an entire chunk missing in **Chapter 19.** It started after Legolas' conversation with his father._

_Replies to the reviews:_

_ilovevollyball: nah, i do not mind. I know the feeling when an author stops at one point and you thinking "And? And?" :D_

_emi: Is it? I am glad you enjoyed it. I did not know how that all came together. So, I am glad for the feedback. So you see now about Lothiriel. How does the change of news sound? :)_

_brankel1: Gimli and Lothiriel. :D It is like a small get together. ;)_


	21. Chapter 21

_Atuhor's Note:_

_Warning: I would like my readers to understand that although I try my best to keep the light humor, I also try to keep the story as realistic as possible. Hence, sometimes realistic situation demands grim atmosphere. I am placing a warning here. Expect some actions for this and next chapter._

**~S~**

Chapter 21

"I cannot believe you are leaving us behind again!" Fion said furiously.

Legolas looked up once he equipped his quiver.

"I am not leaving you behind." He said patiently.

"What is this then?"

"Fion, please listen to me. I do not want you or my escort to come along with me. I want to assign you some places where there are things that I need you to look into."

"Like what, for example?"

"I recall that you did not make it all the way to the edge of the boundary when you took the other half of the kingdom. I want you to do so now. Travel light and on foot. You will be faster than any horse that way, and less conspicuous. Do not stay in any town but make sure to explore the entire area."

"What are we looking for, exactly?" Fion asked, his anger fast in disappearing.

"What we can build and the farms that need the grain most."

"But we will need men for that." Bregon protested. The healer had been listening in from the moment Fion had spoken against the prince.

"You will have them." Legolas confirmed. "Gamling has gone that way some days ago to recruit boys for training. You will meet him in Helm's Deep with Marshal Erkenbrand. Take the Westenmet and make your way to Eastenmet. We have already covered the entire Eastfold and the land around Entwade. You need to do the rest."

"Now, you should not take too long because the area left is remarkably lesser than most. Travel fast. You have two weeks, two and a half at the most."

"Wonderful," Fion said. _"I will take the elves with me then. Where is Dorián?"_

"_He has already left. I sent him to the Eastfold to hunt orcs and look for any mischief makers in the outermost towns."_

"_But he has just healed!"_ Fion said. _"You cannot send him so soon."_

"_I already have. Fion, I expect you to look after the escort and make sure of their safety as much as you can." Fion was about to speak but Legolas interrupted, "I must go. Éomer and I have much to discuss still."_

Legolas turned to leave and Fion tried to follow, but Bregon held him back.

"_Let him go, my friend."_ Bregon said quietly. "_He is no longer a child. You cannot protect him forever."_

"_Let me go, Bregon! I lost my son to orcs. I cannot think of losing him as well; he is like a son to me."_

"_But he is not your son." _Bregon said gently. _"He is a prince and someday he will rule his own land. I can sense it. Let him take the responsibility. let him be who he is; a leader. And know this; you cannot protect Dorián as well. He and Legolas are meant to do great things."_

"_I never wanted this for either of them." _

"_Their greatness comes from their mentor, Fion. You have taught them both well. Let them go."_

"_I cannot. Maybe someday I will. But for now, they are still my boys."_

oOo

With no knowledge of the exchange between Fion and Bregon, Legolas stepped outside Meduseld and found Éomer standing in the clearing.

"Just because you are a man does not mean you have to smell like one." Legolas snapped at Éomer once he reached him.

The young king was already dressed in his red-tinted armor. Éomer raised an eyebrow.

"What does that supposed to mean?"

"You smell like a man."

"You smell like an elf."

"Éomer, the very least you could have done is to have taken a wash after the sword-practice. You stink!"

"And you mother me." Éomer retorted.

Any rebuke from Legolas' part vanished when Legolas glanced behind the king and noticed how the men and horses stood ready.

"That was incredibly fast." Legolas said, impressed.

"We have done this too many times, which, perhaps, is not always a good thing."

"Well, at least you are prepared. When do we ride?"

"When my sister comes to greet me," Éomer replied.

Legolas fought the urge to either roll his eyes or to hit Éomer over the head. How could Éowyn come down here in her condition?

His thoughts were interrupted as the riders about them bowed deeply towards Meduseld. Looking up at the high platform, he saw Éowyn standing above them. Her hair was bound in a low, single braid and she wore loose green gown with flowing sleeves with golden embroidery.

"That woman never ceases to amaze me." Legolas muttered, keeping his voice too low for anyone to hear.

He smirked, though not unkindly, when Éomer bounded up the steps to greet her, skipping over two steps at a time. Legolas followed on a saner pace.

When he reached the high platform, however, he stopped in confusion.

Éowyn's face was cold, and hard-set. The gestures were kind but strained, as if she felt something else entirely. She did not seem to be the woman who had embraced her role and made the most of it in spite of her condition. She seemed to be stuck in time… in the time of the War.

"And here you leave me again, the same way you abandoned me time and again before and during the War." He heard Éowyn say. Éomer wrinkled his brow in confusion. Even he noticed his sister's strangeness.

"Éowyn, I must go. I have a duty to my kingdom. I cannot abandon them."

"And yet you abandon me."

"Aldburg has been your home and mine." Éomer argued. "You do not expect of me to leave it when it needs me most."

"I do not expect anything of you. Go, brother and do your duty to your people."

Éomer softened. "Do not grieve, sister. We will return again. Such appearances of these creatures are to be expected. We are not fully free of the War."

"Go, brother." Éowyn said, her voice weary. "And return safely to me."

Éomer was clearly bewildered by her words, but he took them well. Kissing his sister's head, the king moved away.

"Farwell, little flower. I will come again." He said, bowing formally and descending the steps. Éowyn's eyes followed her brother's path. Legolas was now left alone. The elf could not understand the White Lady's sudden change of mood.

"Éowyn-" Legolas tried to say but Winflead interrupted him.

"Let me accompany you as you return to the éored." Winflead announced. Then, she placed her hand on Legolas' elbow and let him lead her down the steps of the platform. When they were some steps down, Winflead spoke.

"Do not take her words to heart." Winflead said in a low voice. "She is expecting, and her condition is what makes her too emotional. Her past feelings have renewed but will fade away once the babe is born. She will even forget what she had said during her time."

"I understand." Legolas murmured. Still, he oculd not help but glance behind him once more to look at Éowyn. But the White Lady was gone. She had retired into the Golden Hall.

"You have a good heart." Winflead said after a pause. "Despite your mischief, I see now that you care for both of the members of House of Éorl. Look after our king. Éowyn is a strong woman but even she has her weaknesses. There are things that can shatter us to pieces, and it is best not to find out what these things are by testing them to the limits."

"I will protect Éomer where I can but know this; the battlefield is a place of chaos and confusion. Anything can happen."

"You speak to one who lost her father, husband, son and brother to the battlefield." Winflead said bitterly. "Do not lecture me on what can happen in the place where men believe foolishly that they can find honor and glory."

"It was not my intent to hurt you."

"I know," Winflead replied, her voice softening. "When you came here, I believed that you thought yourself a superior race and my heart was jealous and full of hate. I had thought that you elves were so carefree in the world and that you never felt the pain we feel."

"But when your companion was tortured by our own kind and we heard tales of the Woodland Realm told and retold by your escort, I soon realized that perhaps, you have seen much worse in your long life. All of you may laugh and smile, but anyone can see that underlying sadness deep inside. You have my respect, Master Elf."

"You had mine long before I had yours." Legolas commented, smiling. "Take care, my lady. We will soon return."

"Fair winds, then," Winflead replied. Legolas bowed his head before quickly moving away.

"Fair winds, my lady. We will meet again."

oOo

They stopped in the evening of the first day to make camp for the night. Éomer posted sentries around the edges of the camp. He reasoned that if the orcs came that close into Rohan, there were chances that they could be ambushed in the darkness of the night.

The camp was located by a small stream. It was more of a brook than a stream, really, but the horses were thankful for the water. They only had some hours of rest before they set out again. Normally, Éomer would not take such time, but years of experience and instinct told him that this coming battle will not be ordinary. They needed the men and horses to have the most of their strength.

Legolas walked towards the stream. Unbuckling the belts that held his twin knives, he propped them against a rock and also placed his quiver and bow there. Then he stood by the stream, allowing the flowing water to soothe his turbulent thoughts.

"Tired?" Éomer asked, walking up to him.

"I rested along the way." Legolas answered.

"Legolas? Do all elves sleep with their eyes open?"

Legolas burst out laughing.

"Nay, we do not. We do get weary and tired. And we do sleep with our eyes closed. Such sleep comes when we know that we are safe. But in times of fear or insecurity, or when we need to be more alert, we can walk in our dreams and rest. At that moment, our eyes are open and our mind is awake but... we rest as well. It is difficult to explain."

"It makes sense… in a most twisted fashion."

Legolas smirked. "Aragorn said the same thing." Then he sobered.

"Éomer, what of the captive?"

"Captive? What captive?" Éomer asked, startled.

"The man who tried to kill Éowyn."

"Ah, yes. I await Faramir's reply or his return before making a decision."

"Faramir will not be easy to find, even for Aragorn himself. The Steward has been travelling across the kingdom of Gondor for the past few months, rallying what lords would aim for the king's cause. I doubt Aragorn would even know where Faramir is at the moment."

"So, it will be a while before word reaches Faramir, it seems. I hope my sister has what patient is needed of her. I think she will be in for some restless weeks."

"I was thinking months."

Éomer groaned. "How did I get into this mess?"

"That is your problem, not mine."

Éomer stroked his beard contemplatively as he eyed the elf. Legolas took no notice but stared into the moving stream.

"Legolas?"

"Hm?"

"Tell me how the water is."

"What are you-" Legolas turned about in confusion and only had a second to take in Éomer's grinning face.

The strength of Éomer Éomundsson was certainly not exaggerated when Legolas experienced it himself. The young king grabbed hold of the elf's shoulders and threw him bodily into the stream. When Legolas resurfaced, he was drenched from head to toe. Éomer still had the ridiculous wide grin on his face.

"That was for throwing me into the bathtub."

"Éomer, that was weeks-Nay, months ago!"

"Well, better late than never then."

"Éomer?"

"Hm?"

"Your face needs washing."

With the blessed agility of his race and the surprising strength for a Mirkwood Ranger so thin, Legolas grabbed the king and pulled him into the brook.

Éomer came out less gracefully than Legolas. The young king cursed colorfully and sputtered when the water went into the wrong passageway.

"Well, Éomer, I declare this stream is quiet refreshing." Legolas said, grinning as he left it.

oOo

The next day when they rode towards Aldburg, Legolas concluded that there were crazy people and then there were crazy kings.

Éomer gave a loud whoop of joy and nudged his horse faster. Firefoot shot ahead, leaving the éored in a dust. The Riders gave a chuckle at their king's display.

"You would think he never went out in his life." Éothain commented, watching as Éomer's horse pranced a little.

"To him, the title of king is something that resembles a chain." Legolas replied.

Éothain and Legolas both smiled when Éomer shouted in glee as he nudged his horse into a gallop over the grassy fields.

"_Crazy," _Legolas told Arod, patting the horse along the length of his neck. _"That horse-lord is crazy, simply out of his mind."_

Arod knickered. Legolas nodded sagely. _"I knew you were an intelligent horse. Although, I do not think your leader, Shadowfax, would appreciate it if you called him 'crazy' too."_

"Talking with your horse, Master Elf?" Éothain said gruffly.

"As if you do not," Legolas retorted.

"At least I do not expect a reply."

At that moment, Éothain's horse gave a whinny.

"Your horse says that you ride like a sack of potatoes."

"You can tell her that she could not have an apple when we stop."

"I prefer to stay out of domestic issues." Legolas replied flippantly. Then raising his voice, he shouted to the rampant king.

"Éomer! Steady your horse and join me in a race!"

"You will break your neck." Éothain put in, flabbergast.

"I am very aware of that, mother." Legolas commented, his lips twitching in amusement. He dug in his heels and shot off after the king, leaving Éothain in dust.

"Why do I even bother?" Éothain asked no one.

oOo

They stopped for the night. They had two more hours of gallop in the morning till they reached Aldburg. The city was in sight, but the horses were weary and they still did not know what to expect.

Éomer trudged up the uneven, grassy ground towards Legolas. The elf stood straight as he balanced his weight on a rock. His arms were crossed as he surveyed the grassy field that stretched out between them and Aldburg.

"Are you not going to sleep?" Éomer asked.

"Elves do not need to sleep."

"Bah!"

"Did you hear that, Éomer? I think I heard a sheep."

"Your humor is refreshing and annoying as always. But really Legolas, do you not need to regain your strength?"

"I rested along the way. Nay, I will not rest now."

"Humph, fine, but if you fall asleep in time of battle, I am not coming to rescue you."

"All is fair in politics and negotiations."

"Good night, Legolas!" Éomer said finally, laughing. "They have set up your tent beyond. If you need to take rest, do not stay awake for the sake of your pride. Aragorn said that you need frequent naps, especially at your age."

"Go away and dream of forgotten ladies, especially one in particular." Legolas said irritably. "And tell Aragorn that if he makes another joke on the advancements of old age, he forgets that his wife is my ally. I will be avenged yet."

"What about me?"

"Oh, I am around for a few months yet. I will handle you in my own way soon enough. So go to sleep and enjoy the precious moments of peace."

"Wake me up if there is a need, then." Éomer said as he left.

"I will."

Once the king was gone, Legolas reached out with his mind and searched for his close friend. He found him resting against a rock.

_~Dorián?~ _Legolas asked silently.

_~Aw,~ _Came his friend's amused reply. _~It has only been two days and you already miss me.~_

_~Not on your life.~ _Legolas retorted. _~Where are you?~_

_~How should I know? I see nothing but confounded rocks and sprightly tufts of grass growing everywhere.~_

_~Dorián…~_

_~Fine, I am west to your position, about three to four hours of gallop.~_

_~That is... a remarkable feat on foot.~_

_~I am more experienced than you.~_

_~So you think.~_

_~So I know.~ _Dorián retorted.

_~I thought I told you to stick close to Aldburg.~_

_~Bah! You think that orcs' breeding grounds will be close to Man's living places? Nay, I know that the orcs live in places where they know for sure that they will be uninterrupted. Éowyn was kind enough to point out some possible areas that could be secluded just for that purpose.~_

_~Just be careful.~_

_~Did anyone tell you that you mother us?~_

_~Éomer kept saying it.~_

_~He is wise, then. Legolas, I am going to be fine. I have done this many times, you know. It is you I am worried about.~_

_~What is that supposed to mean?~ _Legolas demanded, his worry turning into annoyance.

_~Well, you are not what you used to be now that you are old.~_

_~Some people say I am old, others say I am young. Make up your mind.~ _Legolas growled. _~And careful, my friend that if I am old then you are not far behind. You are only five years younger.~_

_~Legolas?~_

_~What?~_

_~Get some rest. You need it in your old age.~_

Laughing, Dorián cut off the link. Legolas shook his head.

"You know," Legolas said to the stars. "Maybe someday, Dorián will truly pay for the blasphemy against the crown."

And he could just imagine Earendil's amusement at the remark.

oOo

Something was wrong.

Legolas sensed it the moment his head cleared of his dreams. The air was too quiet. The crickets were silent. And the horses were quiet.

Legolas turned and made his way towards the edges of the camp where the sentries stood. The fires had died down, burning in dull gold and red.

When he came to the edge, he could see that the sentries had also sensed the sudden quiet. The men moved restlessly, speaking urgently in their own tongue. One of them got up abruptly.

"Hold," Legolas said quietly, putting his hand on the rider's arm to stop him. "Do not move a muscle."

The riders stopped, their breathing barely heard. Legolas scanned the grassy field in front of him. It was dark, the moon had veiled himself and the stars' light had vanished.

"Put fuel in the fires." Legolas ordered on of the riders quietly. "Make haste but do not make noise so as to alert our enemies. We do not want to engage them in the dark."

"They are out there?" Another asked when the man had left.

"When it is this dark, they are always out there. You," Legolas nodded to another man. "Go and wake up your king and Éothain. Tell them both to make haste. And take another with you. Wake one and then another of your men, but for your lives' sake and that of the people at Aldburg, do not make a noise!"

The two men nodded and moved away, as quiet as big warriors could do. Legolas grimaced, but he knew it had to do.

The one whom he had sent to put fuel into the fires had done so splendidly. The fires raised up as they consumed their new food, casting dark shadows of tents and men, and red glow beyond. It made them more vulnerable but the orcs already knew that they were here.

"These are no ordinary orcs." Legolas muttered under his breath, unknowingly speaking in Westron. The men beside him looked at him worriedly. Realizing that he had spoken aloud and in Common Tongue, he explained, "No orc can think in such a pattern unless it has a leader. But these are a bunch of orcs that know a little bit of strategy, it seems."

"Then what are they?"

"Uruk-hai," Legolas said grimly. "You are not free from this evil yet. Be ready! And bring out the warg-spears."

"Warg-spears?"

"Do you question orders foolishly when in battle? Get to it!"

The Rider saluted and left hurriedly. Then there was a roar and cackle as the fires consumed more wood. Red and golden glow stretched out further and provided Legolas enough light to see ahead.

He heard the harsh breathing and the cruel laughter first before he saw actually saw them. Dark figures rose up from the tall grasses. Most of them were armed and others had enough brute strength that they needed no armor or weapons.

"Rally to me!" Legolas heard the shout in Rohirric tongue. Turning about he found Éomer standing by Firefoot, the other horses assembling behind them under the guidance of their Riders. The king was thankfully wearing his armor. The sound of the Uruk-hai made him turn back to the open fields again.

"Give it up, goldies!" One of them sneered. "We are stronger than ye. We are the fighting Uruk-hai!"

"Go back!" Legolas shouted back, his pleasant voice harsh. "Your master is slain and the Black Land is no more. You are not welcome here!"

"Look what we have here, boys! A pointy-eared shiny! Let us have him! He would be a tasty meat!"

Then, Legolas bent his famed bow and loosened an arrow. It hit one of the Uruk-hai in the eye, making the fell creature scream in pain.

"Think not that I do not know how to kill your kind." Legolas hissed. Behind him, he was fully aware of Éomer readying his men. Time was getting out of hand. "I hunted your kind before your breed was even formed."

"Ah, but did you hunt this?" Another drawled, his voice maimed and twisted.

From the tall grasses, more dark creatures rose. Most of them had brown fur, others had grey fur from age and still others had black fur. But all of them had the same hunger in their eyes and the same cruel grins that showed their yellowed teeth. The wargs were here.

"I hunted them before when I walked these lands and I will hunt them again." Legolas said grimly, placing another arrow on his bowstring. "But know that I am not alone. There are others here that are more experienced in hunting these beasts than I."

At that moment, Éomer shouted a command to advance and Legolas stepped out of the way so that the éored could charge. The Uruk-hais and wargs lunged.

It was chaos. Legolas moved back steadily as he let loose one arrow after another. Some of the Riders successfully skewered the wargs that tried to reach him and he easily took care of the Uruk-hais that dared to come near him.

Somehow, he was pushed towards the place where Éomer stood fighting. The king had dismounted at one point.

"Look, Éomer!" Legolas shouted. "I see another pretty face."

"Mine?" The king asked, laughing cynically as he downed another Uruk-hai.

"If it had been, I would have killed you too." Legolas retorted, stabbing an Uruk-hai in the gap between the plates on the armor of neck and shoulder.

Legolas kicked down another Uruk-hai and slit its throat. He looked around.

Odd, Legolas thought as he frowned. One of the Riders handed him a warg-spear. He pulled his hand back and put some force behind the spear before throwing it. A warg fell dead to the ground. He thought furiously, his mind moving on its own accord as he killed one creature after another.

The Uruk-hais were moving about them, causing chaos and confusion. But if he assumed correctly, the Uruk-hais were making a rough circle about them.

With a sinking heart, Legolas realized that the Uruk-hais stood in between Aldburg and their éored.

And the Uruk-hais were targeting Éomer.

**~S~**

_Author's Note:_

_Yeah, you had better love me. This chapter was supposed to be up two days ago but I was banging my head on the wall, trying to figure out how it will be received. Actually, I needed to change Eomer and Legolas' relationship fro king and adivsor to something much more... friendly._

_By the way, thanks for the input. :) Keep it that way, please? It helps to know that each chapter is being read._

_Replies to Reviews:_

_emi:_

_Thanks, that was what I was aiming for. Humor is only humor when there is realism around it. Without the realistic situations, I think that it just becomes plain idiocity. Besides, I wanted them to be in character._

_lol, I did not realize that. Do I really have that many story-lines? Well, let us see how this goes then. xD_

_Thanks, I always viewed Thranduil as someone who was great and powerful, but remembering Celeborn and Elrond I realized that he must have been weary of the world too, especially the fact that he had no ring to help him rule his people._

_Gimlifan8:_

_Was it really a masterstroke? I always assumed that lack of welath was one of the reasons Gimli came to Rohan. :P Woops._

_Well, no. Not yet. :D That will be explained in time._

_And no problem about being busy. I understand. I just wanted to know if there were people reading out there. ;D_

_ilovevollyball:_

_Really? I am very glad. I had put my heart into this story, so I am glad that you liked it. :D_

_yeah, Legolas is a hypocrite, isn't he? :DD_

_aronoiiel:_

_Thanks, I am glad you liked it so much and even took the time out for a review. I do not make a demand for reviews so that I can have a lot, but reviews do help me in knowing how to take a story. I have roughly five to six ways of taking a story at each new storyline and reviews let me guess which one would work the best. :D_

_Knife work? What is life without a little knife-work, indeed. I truly agree with you._

_brankel1:_

_Thanks. :D So I can safely assume that it is working well between them? It does not sound weird, does it?_

_Eldariel:_

_Hehe, really? How could you not know what to write? I never realized that, but thanks. It made me look into reviewers with a whole new perspective. Yeah, I noticed that too. Both Aragorn and Eomer became kings when they were just warriors._

_Sandy-wmd:_

_Thanks._

_Writing away. :P_


	22. Chapter 22

_Author's Note:_

_Why did I come up with this storyline?_

_Ans. Staying true to the idea "Over Time, We Are Brothers", I soon realized that I cannot keep the story light-hearted always. By "Over Time", I meant "Over Time". They had to see all sorts of things as time went on, and Legolas and Eomer slowly start to realize the extent of their depth of friendship. Their friendship did not come out of nothing. It came out of understanding and trust, which is important base for a friendship. This type of friendship lasts longer than any other type of friendship.  
_

**Warning:** Please note, this story is not only based on Humor. That is why the story's genre is Friendship and Drama. Kindly keep the flames away place. Constructive criticism and questions are **always** welcome.

**~S~**

Chapter 22

Once Dorián had cut off his link with Legolas, he scrambled on top of the stone he was leaning against until he stood up. The fields of Rohan stretched in front of him. the grass was silvery green in the moonlight, and the comforting sound of the crickets told him that there were no intruders near him.

Dorián pulled his hood all the way over his head until his face was shadowed. Then he stood silently, assessing the way the wind stirred the grass in one direction. Then he dropped silently to the ground and moved into the field, keeping with the position of the wind. His dark figure would be indiscernible to an unsuspecting eye.

Most who did not know fieldcraft would mock him for it. What use was concealment when there was no one around? But Fion had taught him well; never think you are alone in an unfamiliar terrain. There is always someone, or something that was watching.

The two months of inactivity during the time he healed did little to put him out of practice. He mastered his skills for centuries and perfected them with experience. His body was still adapted to quick movement and long periods of endless running. Dorián still felt fresh and ready, even after only a small rest by the rock.

He made his way towards Aldburg. Legolas was right; he was too off course. The caves that Éowyn mentioned were much closer to the famed city. Besides, Dorián thought as he frowned. Where would the orcs hide all those prisoners they had been taking? They had to be somewhere close to the Mannish Dwellings.

He reached his destination three hours later. He had rested along the way, knowing his curiosity would be too great to take some time to ease his weariness. And it would not do if he went into enemy grounds without some form of respite.

He could see the dark silhouette of Aldburg from where he stood. He had roughly eight hours before dawn. He passed the encampment of Éomer's éored some time ago. He briefly considered stopping by, but decided against it. He had no need to resupply himself and as a spy, he preferred to keep to himself whilst he was on a mission.

So he went on until he came to this place that Éowyn had spoken off. He eyed the caves warily. Éowyn had told him of the abandoned caves, forged by old rivers of ages past, that were located beyond Aldburg. They were abandoned, but sometimes used for the salt that had accumulated there until long ago, when some rocks collapsed on a poor miner. They were abandoned and never patrolled. In other words, Dorián thought grimly, it was a perfect place for orcs.

He slowly crept towards the caves. His hand itched towards his bow and knives but he controlled his instinct. A good spy had no need for either of them.

Much to his surprise he found doors on each of these caves.

"Of course," he muttered to himself. "Mines just had to have doors."

He randomly chose one of the caves and cautiously opened it. Breathing deeply, he readied himself for anything and stepped inside.

It was very dark inside, but he could still see well enough. The door creaked as he closed it, but he was not bothered by it at all. No orc cared much for such sounds, and Dorián knew he could be a little lax in his training… well, not too lax.

There was no orc guard, and in all aspects, the cave looked as it had not been used for centuries. But the smell of dead flesh and the extreme silence told him otherwise. His hand once more twitched to his back but he restrained himself again. Everything will happen in time.

The roof of the cave was low and Dorián needed to bend his back to avoid getting hit by the protrusions from the ceiling. He crept slowly, careful as he placed his one foot and then the other. He felt quite… naked in this place, where his green and brown could not blend with the greyish-yellow stones about him. Hopefully the darkness will stretch out before him, covering him like a cloak, but Fion always said not to count on it.

The tunnel ended into a larger area that resembled a room, except that it was not furnished and the place was not refined to be called a room. However, when he stepped into the passageway that led to the 'room', he immediately knew something was wrong. His finer instincts told him that he had just stepped on some sort of a trigger. He dropped to the ground.

He felt the air swish above his neck as a spiked barrel swooped down upon him and into the empty air where he had been standing a moment before. once he was sure of no more danger, he got up and dusted his breeches.

"You are quite the killer," he said to the barrel. It was made of wood and reinforced with iron rings and armed with sharp iron spikes. It hung from chains attached to the ceiling. "I suppose you are a nasty surprise for anyone who dared to come here."

Knowing that the barrel would ruin his element of surprise, Dorián pulled it back and placed it into its original position, and reset the trigger. When he turned back to the 'room', he found two passageways.

He randomly took one and found it to be a dead end. He went back and took the other one. It was so long that Dorián started to consider the possibility that the cave truly was vacated. Suddenly though, he came to the end of the tunnel, where a torch of fire was lit.

There truly was life in these caves, Dorián realized. And he realized he was not alone.

A figure lay on the ground, hands bound and back towards him. It lay completely still. He saw numerous scars of what looked to be from whip and knives. The prisoner had been tortured.

"_What have they done to you?" _Dorián murmured, walking forward. He knelt and turned the prisoner gently towards him. Then he scrambled back in shock.

It was a woman. She was Rohirric, of which he had no doubt. She may have been beautiful once, but she was too mutilated to tell. And she was dead.

"_They will pay for this." _Dorián hissed. Too often he had come across such sights. The women of Dale, Lake-Town and even his own kind had been preyed upon too many times to count. It was too familiar a sight and still repulsive.

And yet he sensed something greater in this. There was revenge, mockery even. But for what reason? For who?

His heart yearned to bury her, or at the very least place her in a more respectable place, but he knew that the orcs will know of his presence if he did. So, he got up and advanced, hating himself as he did.

And at the end of the tunnel, he found his quarry at last.

Torches of fire were lit and placed in rough holders around the large, low-roofed place. The place was streaming with orcs. Judging by their scars and size, some of them were young, and others were old. And all of them possessed the same brutal strength and cruelty. They were talking in Black Speech, making Dorián shrink back in his disgust. Then he quickly moved crept behind a large rock and looked over its edge to the gathering in front of him.

Women and children were there, after all. The prisoners were located in small clusters, with their hands bound behind their backs. The children were at one side and the women were at the other. Dorián had no doubt that the children were there so that the women could behave. All of them looked starved with their gaunt faces and many of them were beaten.

Dorián scanned the orc gathering. He wondered who the leader was. If the leader was taken down, other orcs usually followed. But Dorián knew he could not do it on his own. The place was too close, and the prisoners were too close to the orcs. The orcs would kill many before Dorián could get rid of all of them. Besides, his chances of winning in this fight where there were roughly more than a hundred orcs against him alone were slim.

Then, one of the orcs got up. He was very large and dirty like any other orc, but full of power.

"Get me one of the prisoners." It shouted in its guttural voice in Common Tongue.

A woman was pulled from the cluster and dragged to the leader. The orcs pushed her towards it. She tumbled, but she stopped and straightened. Her head was held high in pride, even though she looked half-starved and weak.

"Kneel before me!" The leader growled.

"My right is to keep my head held high. It is you who should grovel." The woman replied, her voice heavily accented in the Common Tongue.

"You will regret your words, slave!" The leader's whip appeared out of nowhere.

"Our king will not take kindly to this."

The words only made the leader angrier.

"Ach, we know of the Red One!" The leader roared. "He took down my brothers at the Stone Fortress!"

"And you will suffer again." The woman replied proudly.

Dorián would have admired her nerve if it had not landed her in a more dire position. Foolish girl! He thought. There was no need to make that leader angrier.

"He 'hall be taught manners! We kill him and tear down his throne! We will be avenged!"

"He will come for us." The woman was adamant.

Slowly, comprehension dawned on Dorián. He felt the sinking feeling in his stomach.

"That is what we want." The leader sneered. "We are the fighting Uruk-Hai! We are Drog! We will take the Red One down! He will be trapped!"

Red One, Dorián realized, it was the name for Éomer. His armor was dyed red. And the Stone Fortress was Helm's Deep. Uruk-hais were the mutilated, new breed of orcs from Saruman.

And Éomer was walking into a trap.

Dorián watched as the whip moved upward and realized that he could not let the young woman be whipped for her bravery. Foolish bravery, granted, but it was bravery nevertheless. So as the whip-hand went down, Dorián's bow went up.

Drog screeched in pain as a smooth fletched arrow appeared into his wrist. Dorián did not wait for the orcs to discover him and recover from their stunned surprise. He raced to the entrance and fled through the tunnels. He dimly heard the sounds of the orcs pursuing him, but he was fast and dodged them.

He finally reached the tunnel that led to the entrance of the cave. He raced upwards and pushed open the door. Once he was safely outside, he closed the door again. Hood on as it had been the whole time; he disappeared into the thick grass. He moved silently, but urgently, eager to put as much distance as he could between the caves and himself. He heard the door open again, and the sound of the Uruk-hais as they searched for him. They will not find him, Dorián was certain and he was sure they will not follow him.

Sure enough, after few grunts and growls and some mutterings in Black Speech, the orcs retreated. Drog himself had come out into the open to look for the intruder.

"Let him be." Drog told his followers. "That spy could do nothing for his king. The Red One will be dead before the Sun comes."

Dorián crept away, and searched for Legolas' presence.

_~Legolas!~ _Dorián cried. _~Éomer is in danger. The orcs- they want to kill him.~_

_~I know.~ _Legolas breathing labored as a warg dug its claw in his side. The prince batted him away. _~It has already begun. We are outnumbered. We will be taken down before or after dawn. I have to go, Éothain needs my- ah!~_

Dorián hastily cut off the link before Legolas' pain rebounded to him. The mental link worked both ways. Emotions and speech both can be channeled from one way or the other.

The stars had hidden themselves for Dorián's sight and the moon had veiled himself. But Earendil, the Star of Hope, shined brightly, Dorián traced its path his finger and noted Aldburg's general direction.

He needed help and he knew just where to get it.

oOo

Legolas brought his bow up, the arrow dangerously aiming towards Éomer.

"Your head!" Legolas shouted to him in dismay. "Keep your head!"

Éomer drew in a sharp breath as he felt his hair ruffle once the arrow sped past. The arrow found its target, and the orc fell.

"My head is doing fine on my shoulders!" Éomer shouted back, glaring at the elf.

"Watch your side then!"

Éomer looked and sure enough, another orc had raised its axe to for a fatal blow. He reversed his grip and sank the sword into the orc's unprotected side.

"I do not think we are going to win this fight!" Legolas shouted, letting one arrow fly after another.

"I am not enjoying your humor at the moment!"

"It isn't!" Legolas retorted.

"What?"

"Humor!"

"What?"

"Never mind!"

Legolas loosened his arrow, which flew true to its target. He reached back, only to find his quiver empty.

"Wonderful," Legolas muttered, returning his bow to its original resting position and quickly drew out his dual knives in a complicated arc.

He swung his knives. Dual knives did not work the same way as swords. They were meant to find and hit weak points in armor. They were fast, one being where the other was not. They protected the bearer's blind sides. Swords, on the other hand, were swung in series of long, swift strokes and mostly leaving any one side exposed for any period of time. For someone who wielded the knives like Legolas, these openings were just perfect.

But they were heavily outnumbered. Soon enough, the éored found themselves in a small cluster, with orcs on all sides leering at them.

"Surrender." One of the orcs drawled.

Éomer was about to spit out his refusal when he caught Legolas' warning look. _Live to fight another day, _the elf seemed to say. Glancing at Éothain, he realized his loyal friend was thinking the same thing. It would be well for his men as well. Too many had fallen, it would be best not to let more fall just for the sake of pride.

Gúthwine fell to the ground.

The moment it did, the orcs rushed forward and grabbed Éomer roughly. They pinned him down, soon followed by Éothain and then Legolas. The éored, trusting their king, did the same. Soon, all of them found themselves bound by ankles and hands and clustered in a tight group. Their weapons were taken away from them, and the horses, which were intent on protecting their masters, were dragged away.

"Where is Dorián when I need him?" Legolas muttered, before sending out a call to his friend.

_~Dorián, we need help!~_

_~Hold on,~ _Dorián replied grimly. _~We need more time.~_

_~There is not any!~_

_~Then improvise!~_

"Easier said than done," Legolas muttered to himself.

"What was that, pointy?"

"I said you stink worse than an unwashed stable."

"This is not a good time for insults!" Éomer hissed.

"Do you have any other ideas?" Legolas whispered back.

The orc hit the elf hard on the head.

"Not that are as foolish as yours," Éomer replied. The king earned himself a blow on the head as well.

"You were saying?" Legolas asked once the orc walked past.

"If you two would stop your bickering for once," Éothain commented. "I think I have an idea."

"Whatever it is," Legolas said, shifting to a more comfortable position. "It will not work so soon. Those orcs will not be putting on a lax watch in the mere moments they have captured us."

"Hm, might as well get some sleep then." Éomer said.

"Are you out of your mind?" Éothain asked angrily. "Éomer, they want you dead!"

"Actually, they want to torture and humiliate him." Legolas corrected matter-of-factly.

"Oh, I thank you for that information." Éomer replied tartly. Éomer had been leaning his side against Legolas' wounded leg, applying pressure to stop the flow. The king moved a little, opening the wound.

"You are welcome." Legolas replied pleasantly, checking the wound and realizing with relief that it bled sluggishly. The wound on his side was superficial as well. It was the cut on Éomer's forehead that worried Legolas, but he did not speak of it. "But what I mean is; they are not going to kill him anytime soon."

"So, we might as well get some of energy up while we are at it." Éomer said, shifting so that he rested against Legolas comfortably.

"You are insane!" Éothain said, aghast. "What about your men?"

Éomer sobered. He said, "Éothain, I know you are worried, but I agree with Legolas. We do not have any way of escaping just yet. We have to stay put and stay together."

"Sire, I would rather that you escaped while there is still time." One of Éomer's men said. "We would not want our king to be killed in these times."

"Your heroism and readiness to sacrifice yourself is duly noted, Wulfric." Éomer said dryly. "But I will not abandon any of my men. We will leave together, and we will not die. Now, hush and let me sleep."

Just then the orcs started to sharpen their blades.

"I think you had better stay awake, Éomer." Legolas said quietly. "Because I think we will joining our forefathers in endless sleep very soon."

oOo

For an hour, Legolas, Éomer and his men watched the orcs ready their weapons.

"I am hungry." One of them whined. "I want something to eat."

"There is meat aplenty from the woods." Another one answered.

"Now we know where the game was disappearing of to." Éothain whispered. One of the orcs caught them whispering and turned towards them. Éothain fell silent.

"What about them?" The orc asked, looking at the captured éored hungrily. "They are fresh with warm meat. I am tired of eating stringy tasteless meat. Give me man-meat!"

"Take the elf." Éomer muttered.

"I will not help you after this day." Legolas hissed back.

The first orc who had told the orcs about the woodland meat pushed the other orcs away. He seemed to be the leader.

"We have orders! You will follow them and you will have none of them."

Legolas and Éomer glanced at each other, confused. The Dark Lord was dead. What orders? Who gave those orders?

"But we are hungry." The whine came again.

"I told you, none of them are for eating yet! Not until Drog gets the first piece of each."

"Drog is an orc-name." Legolas murmured.

"Which means that we have to come up with an escape plan fast." Éothain put in. "Any ideas?"

"I am thinking." Legolas and Éomer spoke up together. The two glanced at each other, surprised but settled back to think once more.

A familiar mind pressed against his. Dorián's voice sounded through his head.

_~Legolas?~_

_~I am alive.~ _Legolas joked. Then he grimaced as he eyed the orcs sharpening their blades. _~At least, I am alive for now.~_

_~Is that one of your jokes?~ _Dorián asked. Legolas eyed the sharp blades once more and decided not to tell his best friend.

_~Ah, never mind. Tell me where you are.~_

_~I do not know. The Marshal is the one who is leading.~_

_~That is reassuring.~_

_~Was that critiscm?~_

_~Éomer does not have long to live.~_

_~What?~ _Dorián actually had the nerve to sound amused. _~Is Legolas the Great actually giving up on a friend?~_

_~Legolas the Great is not feeling so great now.~_

_~Legolas-~_

_~Dorián, really, where are you?~_

_~Where are your hidden knives?~_

_~Hidden and hard to get with my bonds.~_

_~Then why did you hide them where you cannot reach them?~_

_~Your sarcasm is doing little to better the situation.~_

_~Well, you shouldn't have lost the small knife hidden in your boot then.~_

_~Knife in my boot? What knife?~ _Legolas asked. Just then, Legolas was suddenly aware of the small knife pressed slightly against his calf. _~Oh,~ _Legolas said sheepishly. _~That knife.~_

_~You really are an idiot, your highness.~ _ Dorián commented. _~Now get to work!~_

_~I am working, I am working!~ _Legolas protested, smoothly slipping his bound hands beneath him and under his legs till his hands came in front of him. Then he worked his fingers into his boot till he freed the knife. It was very small and would be nothing in a fight but its size and sharpness was perfect for cutting rope or picking locks. Legolas flipped the blade and set to work.

"You are full of surprises, Master Elf." Éothain commented, watching the elf free himself.

"Did I ever tell you how much I admire you?" Éomer asked. Legolas smirked.

"Relax," the elf replied. "I am going to free you too."

Legolas untied the bonds on his ankles and retied them so that they would fall apart if he applied a slightest force by his legs. Then he picked up the blade again and passed it to Éomer.

"Pass it along when you are done." Legolas said, taking the cut rope and repositioning his hands behind his back, looking like he was still tied. "Stay together and try not to let the cut binds show. And work silently and obscurely!"

Just then the orcs returned. Legolas and the men made sure the blade stayed hidden. It passed from one hand to another, till the entire éored was free.

"How do you suppose we get our horses and weapons?" Éomer asked once the orc was out of earshot.

"I am working on it." Legolas replied.

"You have not thought of it!"

"I am making the plan as I go." Legolas retorted.

"Never mind, I have a forming idea."

"Form it quickly, then. We are running out of time!"

"Anyone in the mood of forming a distraction?" Éomer asked.

"I do not think we will be able to come up with one, Sire." One of the men answered. "One wrong move and the entire plan will backfire."

"I agree with your man." Legolas said.

"Whose side are you on?" Éomer asked irritably.

Legolas was about to retort when he felt Dorián's presence press against his mind again.

_~You have to be careful. Their leader Drog wants Éomer.~_

_~For dinner?~ _Legolas asked. _~I already heard.~_

_~This is serious.~ _Dorián warned. _~He is not like a normal orc, or even as the Uruk-hai that the men have spoken of. He is-~_

_~Large? Frighteningly muscular? Cruel-faced? Carries a mace?~_

_~Yes, how did you know?~_

_~I am staring right at him.~_

**~S~**

_Author's Note:_

_I think you guys are gonna kill me by now. This one is some cliff hanger._

_By the way, some of you were curious of how long this story is going to be. I have not counted the chapters yet but I can tell you that according to the plotlines, we are almost 65-70 % done. Oh, the chapters are not going to end any time soon, that much I can assure you._

_One more thing, you will not find out more about Legolas' and Thranduil's sea-longing here. It is for the sequel. And yes, there will (hopefully) be a sequel._

_One more thing, did anyone notice that I am bending the story towards the time Legolas comes to live in Ithilien? I am very proud of that feat. :P_

_Replies to reviews:_

_Emi: Hi!_

_Am I that unpredictable? xD I never realized it. I think I like to be a little unpredictable though I personally hope that I do not become too unpredictable to the point that I ruin the story. Authors that are too unpredictable ruin the story, I think. Some of the guesses of the readers should be true, at least._

_Fion, coming to their rescue, I have to admit, I did not even realize that that could be a plot line. But Fion is too far away, I am afraid. Dorian and Legolas are on their own in this one. Besides, I wanted Dorian to be developed enough for the coming sequel. There is a possible plotline that I may or may not try out, and I wanted Dorian to be developed either way... just in case._

_Haha, my friends also say that I have distrubing talent in taking the story. But I hope it still says fun to read. Like I said, a story that is too much unpredictable ruins the fun and makes it harder to read or keep interest to._

_Gimlifan8:_

_Wow! So much faith! I hope I did not disappoint. How was this chapter? _

_Actually, I am much too new at this, I am afraid. There are many things I am sure I am lacking in. I am certain it is not too emotional...yet. We have another chapter, but was it unreasonable? _

_And do not worry about asking a question in a review. I am doing the same, lol. :P_

_Eldariel:_

_I briefly did consider the idea of letting Legolas take on the orcs single-handedly but I realized that that would mean I become a target of many parodies, so I stopped the idea. :D_

_Adressing the characters of the story...nah, I do not think it is crazy. I do it too. :P :P_

_ilovevollyball:_

_I read that part again and I agree with your sister. As funny as it seems, it is not something Legolas would have done. I plan to change it once I am done with this story. I have to edit and spell-proof the story anyway, so I will change it then. It would be too tiresome for my readers if I change it now. Thanks for the input and keep it that way! :D :D_

_1monster2:_

_Haha, good to have you back! You are right, I found it funny. For Legolas who was taught the importance of secrecy, it would have been so annoying! :D :D_


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Drog, having just arrived, was still very far away, but his size was great even by Uruk-hai standards. His bare arms showed off many battle scars. His face was twisted in a rage and he carried a large mace.

"I am open to suggestions!" Éomer hissed. He wouldn't be able to fight the orc-leader unarmed!

"How about we just hand you over?" Legolas replied.

"Legolas!"

"I have a very wild idea."

"Anything will work at the moment."

He watched the orcs intently to make sure none of them came close to them. He dropped his bonds to the ground and then slowly took out his knives hidden in his sleeves. The knives were slim and slightly smaller than the length of his arm from wrist to elbow. They would not hold well against heavy orc-blades, because they were meant for silent, quick attacks. Legolas had no element of surprise in the dark, because dawn had already broken.

His eyes glanced back at where the horses were tethered. They were too far, located roughly opposite to where they were grouped. Legolas could not get their without being seen. The orcs know that there was only one elf in the entire éored; they would notice if he simply disappeared.

He briefly considered the idea of throwing the knife to kill the orc-leader. But killing Drog would enrage the orcs, and the men were unarmed. Also, these knives were certainly not meant for throwing; the hilt did not have the extra weight it needed to fly true to its target. No, he had to go with the first plan. He needed someone small for that. And all the men were broad-shouldered and conspicuous in size. Then he remembered.

Éomer had brought a young boy with him. The boy was not meant to participate in any battle. He was only there to serve the king where it was needed. Actually, the boy was an orphan, reared up by his grandmother. Legolas had never bothered to speak to him, and did not even notice him because the eleven-year-old boy was extremely shy and he reached barely four feet. But now his small height will prove to be an .

"Éomer, where is your page?"

"Bradford," Éomer barked. "Stop hiding behind me and show yourself."

Frightened dark blue eyes met Legolas' lighter one. For a moment, Legolas felt a surge of pity for the boy. He was clearly not set out to be a warrior.

"Bradford," Legolas said quickly, eyes turning to glance at the orc-leader. Drog was still far away, talking in Black Speech with another orc. "Take the knives from my hands. I want you to creep out of the camp and make a wide arc all the way to the horses. Use the knives to cut the ropes. Then get those horses to stampede. Make them come towards us."

"Stampede?"

"Aye, stampede!"

"But-but, I am too small. I can never do something like that!"

"You do not have the time for self-doubt!" Legolas said, beginning to grow impatient. At that moment, Drog gave a guttural roar and slammed his mace against the orc he had been speaking to. The orc fell to the ground, dead. Legolas jerked his head towards the orc-leader. "Do you want your king to suffer the same fate?"

That decided the small boy. Bradford snatched the two knives from Legolas' hands and crawled into the throng of supposedly tied éored.

"Fool!" Éomer hissed. "What of the wargs? They are patrolling the boundaries! What if they catch him?"

"Does he know that?"

"Nay!"

"Then he will win." Legolas said adamantly. Éomer still looked furious at the elf's supposed disregard for the boy's life. "Éomer, this is a battlefield. Nothing like pity for children exists. He would have been killed faster here."

An orc pointed them out to Drog. The orc-leader looked pleased as his eyes shifted to Éomer and then to him. He sent out a call to his friend as Drog started to walk towards them.

_~Dorián, time is wasting!~_

_~We are almost there.~_

_~I can see you, but you are still too far away!~_

_~I am trying to change that, you idiot.~ _Dorián snapped. _~Just… do not die on me.~_

_~Come over here and say that.~_

_~I will. Watch me. And then I am going to kill that leader.~_

_~I think, you will have to beat Éomer to it.~_

Breaking off his link, Legolas said to Éomer, "Pace yourself."

"I cannot. My head hurts."

Legolas and Éothain cast worried glances at each other before looking back at Éomer. The young king looked a little dazed, his head lowered as if it was a burden to hold high and the wound was still bleeding.

"Blood loss," Legolas murmured.

"Or poison." Éothain added. They glanced at each other once more. Legolas then looked for Drog. The leader was waylaid by another orc, a fact that did not please him too much.

"Even if there was no poison, those swords are rusty enough to dirty wounds." Legolas muttered, still keeping an eye on the approaching danger.

"What are you two whispering about?" Éomer asked.

"I was telling Éothain that he was sitting on my ankle."

Éomer's lips twitched upwards. "I am not too far gone, Legolas. I know you were talking about me."

"Just try to stay awake."

"I think that Drog would not let me take some rest anyway."

"I, for one, think that it is time to make some use of our cut bonds." Éothain whispered. "We need our horses and weapons if are to defend ourselves against orc-blades."

"Which is starting to give me an idea," Legolas murmured. "Éomer, do me a favor; can you provide me a distraction?"

"Sure," Éomer mumbled. "Let us send a wounded, half-awake king to a hungry, vengeful orc-leader."

"I am sorry." Legolas apologized, noting how Éomer truly did not look well by each passing moment. "But Drog only has his eyes set on you at the moment."

"No worries." Éomer said, rolling his large shoulders as he tried to keep his eyes wide open.

"What do you have in mind?" Éothain asked.

"Just wait for my signal."

"What have we here?" Drog growled approaching them. Legolas stifled his distaste. The orc-leader may be more intelligent than his followers but he certainly smelled like an orc. The leader knelt and grabbed Éomer's head roughly. "We finally have the Red One in our grasp! We will make you squeal!"

"Could you move away please?" Éomer asked. "Your bad smell is too overpowering."

"Éomer!" Legolas hissed. The prince did not mind making such insults, but Éomer was too injured to take up the challenge that usually followed.

Drog growled and jerked Éomer's head.

"Do you know why you are here?" The orc-leader asked. Éomer did not reply.

"We were born in the underground mines of Isengard." Drog said. "We had one goal in life. We had to serve Saruman the White. And when we marched to the Stone Fortress, we were sure of our victory. For five days, we Uruk-hai surrounded your Fortress! We broke it down stone-to-stone! And we would have taken your dotard king."

The insult for their late king Theoden stirred the Riders, who angered easily. Legolas turned his head and shot a warning look. Right now, things were steadily growing dire for Éomer. If they angered Drog too much, if they made one false move and the king would be dead.

Drog made an angry gesture. "And then you came, Red One! You took down our victory. And we Uruk-hai are nothing no more! Our wizard is dead because of you goldies!"

"This land was not yours to take." Éomer replied quietly. "I was once a Marshal of the very ground you are now standing upon. I did not tolerate your coming then and I will not tolerate it now."

"Gaaaah!" Drog roared. "Take off his ropes on his legs and make him stand!"

The orcs jumped to his command. Soon Éomer found himself standing in front of the orc-leader, the black mace ready to strike the Rohirric King down.

"You think you are so brave, let us see how you handle without your sword and your men!" Drog shouted and whirled his mace.

"We have to act now!" Éothain hissed at Legolas.

"Steady," Legolas shot back, watching as Éomer escaped the blow of the mace. The king had instinctively dropped his cut ropes to the ground.

"I see you cut yourself free." Drog noticed, his harsh voice more ugly in his anger. "That will not change anything!"

He may be intelligent but he certainly is an idiot, Legolas thought fleetingly. The orc-leader did not even entertain the possibility that the other prisoners could have freed themselves as well. But where was the boy?

Legolas scanned ahead. Bradford was nowhere to be found. But then he suddenly noticed a small creeping figure, barely two steps away from the horses. The boy was cutting one horse free before going to another, crawling all the while.

"Good lad," Legolas murmured.

"What?" Éothain asked, still not taking his eyes off of the unfair duel. The poor captain was white in his fear for his king.

"Just wait."

"I think we have waited long enough!"

"Would you shut up and wait!"

The mace swung again, this time too dangerously close. Éomer barely moved his head away, because now he was relying on pure instinct. One more move and Éomer was finished.

"Legolas, we have to act now!" Éothain whispered angrily.

"Hold, on your peril and that of your king's!" Legolas hissed. Opposite to him, he could see Bradford cut the last rope. Just one more moment… Éomer, one more moment…

The mace swung again, the spiked heavy end bearing down upon the half-standing king. it was too close…

Several things happened at once. The Rohirric horses were taught every sort of command. Bradford urged them into a stampede in his native tongue, and the hot-blooded warhorses raced forward in their attempt to aid their respective masters. Legolas, once again, displayed his agility. The elf's binds on his legs fell away as he stood, shouting out the signal as he did. Éothain and the other men grabbed the reins of the approaching horses and mounted. Legolas raced forward to grab Éomer.

Legolas collided into the king and the two rolled away just before the mace could come in contact with Éomer's head. A dull thud sounded as mace fell harmlessly on the grassy ground.

"You came." Éomer muttered.

"I told you I would help you." Legolas retorted. "Try to keep yourself alive until we find your sword, will you?"

"Where are you going?"

"To have a little chat with that orc-leader. Nobody hurts my friends."

The horses stamped down on fallen orcs that came in their way. Wargs were harder to deal with, so many of the men had retreated to the carts that bore their weapons.

Legolas reached beneath the open seam of his tunic that stretched from underneath his arm to somewhere higher than his belt and pulled out another hidden knife. It had a broad tip, meant to fall fatal wounds on its targets. And this one had to be a fatal one.

Drog noticed the approaching danger and whirled his mace about towards the elf. Legolas ducked easily and swept past the arc of the mace. One of things that he loved about those who wielded maces was that the bearer was completely unarmed once the elf had gotten past the main offensive.

As soon as he entered the safe area that lay in between the moving mace and Drog, Legolas grabbed the orc's weapon arm and twisted it down, breaking the wrist. Drog screamed his pain. Then the orc looked up at the cold face of Legolas Greenleaf.

"You should know," the elf said coldly. "I do not take it kindly when my friends are threatened."

Then the elf finished him off. When Drog dropped to the ground, Legolas could not help but feel a little pity. It was not their fault that they grew into darkness and hate. They were elves once, tortured and mutilated into what they are now.

"You and I could have been brothers, had fate did not come between us." Legolas murmured before turning away.

Turning back, Legolas could not find Éomer in fighting crowd of orcs, Riders and horses.

"Legolas!" Éothain shouted, tossing the elf's dual knives, bow and quiver towards him.

Legolas caught them cleanly and quickly equipped himself, making a useless mental note to get his hidden knives from Bradford, if they survived this battle.

His attentions diverted when three orcs came bearing down upon him. His hands instinctively went first towards his bow before he remembered that he had already used up his arrows in the first fight. He switched to dual knives instead.

"Wulfric!" Legolas shouted, spotting one of Éomer's men. "Where is the king?"

"Éothain is with him. He has reclaimed Gúthwine." Wulfric shouted back, taking down the orc.

"But he is in no shape to fight." Legolas muttered.

He had no luck in finding Éomer. There was too much confusion. And Legolas noticed how the wargs went from one man to another. He and the men needed leverage against the wargs. Otherwise, they would be defeated the second time and that meant joining endless sleep for good.

Distant horns blew and Legolas looked up. To his immense relief, he saw a new éored from Aldburg riding towards them in earnest. The orcs and wargs briefly turned their heads at the new danger. Legolas spotted Dorián, riding beside Marshal Élfhelm.

"_You certainly took your time!" _Legolas shouted angrily at Dorián. The elven spy laughed and dismounted.

"_It is nice to see you too, my friend!" _Dorián said, smoothly taking out his knives and killing the orc that had come upon Legolas at unawares. _"You have not left many orcs for us!"_

"_Then you should have come quickly!'_

"_Well, I am here now." _Dorián protested. _"Is there anything I can do?"_

"_Aye, hand me your arrows. I used all of mine."_

The two elves retreated slightly for some cover. Legolas pulled out the arrows from his friend's quiver and fitted them in his own.

"_You had better make good use of them, your highness."_

"_Is that a challenge?"_

"_Take down thirty or forty orcs and I will buy you a new quiver." _Dorián said, laughing as he raced back into the fight.

Legolas chose the high ground. He balanced himself on the large rock he had chosen and mentally picked out his targets. The orcs would not be a trouble soon. It was the wargs that could turn the tables. Seeing them, Legolas brought up his bow. Then he let his arrows fly.

The odds passed into their favor once the Riders took down the wargs with the newly-arrived warg-spears and Legolas took down the wargs with his arrows. Scanning the battlefield again from his position, he finally found Éomer caught in a tight group of orcs. Gúthwine was unsheathed but Éomer looked worse for wear. He leaned heavily against Éothain, who was trying to keep the orcs at bay. Élfhelm fought on Éomer's other side. Behind them stood Firefoot, who stamped his hoof impatiently. _They were going to get Éomer to ride out of here, _Legolas realized.

Legolas placed his bow into its original position and slipped out his knives. Dropping down, he made his way through the confusion of orcs and Riders until he finally reached the three men.

"How are you feeling, Éomer?" Legolas asked, helping Éothain support the man's weight.

"Splendid," the king muttered.

"We need to get him out of here." Éothain said to Legolas.

"I can fight." Éomer protested weakly.

"Sure you can." Legolas' words were dripping in sarcasm. "You are holding Gúthwine most frighteningly. Get on Firefoot."

"But-"

"He likes to argue, does he not?" Legolas remarked, bodily moving Éomer onto Firefoot.

"You go with him." Éothain said, leaning on his sword in exhaustion once they cleared the orcs that had been gathering about them.

"Try not to get yourself killed while I am away, then." Legolas said, mounting the black stallion.

"Go on, get away from here!" Élfhelm shouted, as another group of orcs slowly came towards them.

"_You and I may not see eye-to-eye," _Legolas murmured to the stallion. _"But now would be a good time to take off. Your master is in dire position."_

With a loud neigh, Firefoot set off in a full gallop, taking his precious burden away from the chaotic fight in the remains of the Rohirric camp.

oOo

They had been somewhere around two hours away from Aldburg. Legolas let Firefoot take a fast pace. Éomer gave a groan as his head lurched when Firefoot jumped over a stone.

"We are almost there, my friend." Legolas murmured comfortingly to Éomer, trying to keep the wounded man still in front of him.

"Am I?"

"What?"

"Your friend?"

Legolas smiled and replied, "Of course."

"You are mine too, you know." Éomer said, before sagging into Legolas' arms. "I am sorry that I did not say it earlier."

"Some things do not need saying, Éomer."

"How can we be friends when we were not even comrades?"

"But we were."

"Were we?"

"How else did you come to my aid at the Black Gates?"

Éomer smiled, leaning against the elf's front. "I think I took a nasty beating than I originally thought…"

"Oh no, you do not." Legolas muttered, jerking Éomer back into sitting position. "You are not falling asleep."

"So sleepy," Éomer murmured.

"Wake up!" Legolas said roughly. Then the elf paused before saying, "Sing me something."

"You do not mean that."

"Unfortunately, I do." Legolas said, knowing he will regret this decision deeply. "Sing me something."

Éomer started to mumble a song in Rohirric. Unfortunately, Legolas' grasp on the language was good enough to make out what the king was saying. Despite his fear for Éomer's life, Legolas burst out laughing.

"Aye, I will regret it." Legolas said, shaking his head. "Keep singing."

Fortunately, Éomer managed to stay awake. Firefoot strained many times to take off into a gallop, and Legolas gave him most of his head. But the prince absolutely refused to let the horse gallop freely. Knowing Firefoot's worry for his master, he would probably run himself to the ground.

"_Steady," _Legolas snapped at the proud stallion. _"I will not take care of the horse and its master. So stay put and let me be in charge!"_

Firefoot nickered a protest. Confused, Legolas looked up and saw that Aldburg was very near.

"_Alright," _Legolas said, resigned. _"You can gallop, but if you feel sore the next day, do not say anything to me."_

Using the last reserves of his strength for his final leg of the race, Firefoot took off. Legolas leaned forward slightly, supporting the weight of the king who was still mumbling a song underneath his breath.

A while later, Legolas wondered why it was so silent. Then he realized that Éomer was not speaking. He tried to shake the king awake but Éomer made no reply and stayed limp in his arms.

**~S~**

_Author's Notes:_

_*laughs hard*_

_Lookee, a cliff hanger. xD_

_*sobers*_

_1. So we reached a 100 reviews in the last chapter. Now, I have not forgotten my promise and the one-shot that I had in mind was in my iPod. The day I had to upload it, my iPod slipped and fell. It is not working since then. But that does not mean that I am not uploading it. I will be writing that one-shot from memory but it will take me a week or a little more to upload it (I have tests this week). My sincerest apologies, I am dismayed at the turn of events. _

**_So stay tuned for "The Hunt" featuring Thranduil, Legolas and the elves._**

_2. One of the reviewers commented that it was strange to see me write this scene when I refused to write the execution scene earlier. I have to agree. It was certainly strange and very out of the line. So, when I am going to update this story in a re-edited version, I will be putting in the interrogation and execution scene as well. _

_ **Q.** Why did I go along with the idea of this fight between orcs and Riders?_

_ **Ans. i.** The orcs have generally been shown to have sense of revenge. They would have remembered the ride of Eomer and the other exiled riders to rescue to Helm's Deep._

_ **ii. **A friend of mine commented that I am not following the idea of "Over Time, We Are Brothers" if I am only showing the good times and toning down the bad ones. We all see trials in our real lives and that should mean that Legolas and Eomer would be seeing trials too. So, I would be detailing the chapters (not adding new ones) in Dorian's case._

_3. **A request to make:**__If my readers would be so kind, kindly tell me which parts you do like and which you do not like (those that you think are lacking). I would be alone when it comes to re-editing this story and I need all the feedback I could get._

_4. I hope the transfer from comrades to friends made sense. -.-_

_5. "Gardens of Ithilien" has been resumed._

_6. So I was going through LOTR archives when I came upon this story that was threatening to put on hold if the author did not give reviews, so I wondered; What would you guys say if I suddenly disappear right on this chapter for the next five or six months?  
_

_Replies to reviews:-_

_emi:_

_I am glad. I thought really hard over that chapter. I noticed I am not good when it comes to keep everyone's characters. I slip up too often, I am afraid._

_Actually, I never intended to take this storyline, but as I explained earlier, my friend was right that I should let it flow. Legolas and Eomer are both soldiers and they should be used to such things and I should have included them into the story. Being an author is difficult work. :P_

_As for Dorian going to Ithilien, I am working on it. I cannot decide if Thranduil needs him or not. But then again Legolas may need him more... I do not know. Let us get this story over and done with first. :P_

_Does it really make him look young and professional? _

_My reasoning had been entirely different. If Drog had been allowed to whip the woman, he would have surely killed her in his rage. Dorian, on the other hand, knew that he could easily escape the caves even when the orcs' attention would be on him. Besides, it would give the captured people some hope that their king truly did not abandon them. By the time Drog would return to the caves from their fruitless hunt for Dorian, he would have forgotten his initial intention to punish the woman._

_Yes, :D **"The Hunt"**__is a long one-shot._

_Gimlifan8:_

_Am I really? Well, I try to keep a little heroism in the story. (It is fantasy, after all!) But I hope this chapter sufficed. :D_

_My eyes are well, but I might disappear again, my treatment unexpectantly got a little longer. And which update are you talking about? The 100-review one-shot or this one?_

_aronoiiel:_

_Lol, it happens, it happens. :D_

_Wow, somebody finally commented on the bath scene. I was waiting for someone to say something on it. You made my day. Yeah, and Eomer will take his revenge for the fact that Legolas got him drunk on Elvish Wine as well. But that comes later._

_I am glad you enjoyed both of the chapters. I did not know how the mine scene would be taken, because most of my readers are here for the humor, I suppose._

_1monster2:_

_I am glad. This story has come a long way and I never expected to come this far. :D The best part is that people are enjoying them everywhere!_

_brankel1:_

_Yeah, I hope so too. :)_

_icecoldfairy:_

_lol, thanks! :)_

_Eldariel:_

_Cliff-hangers are cruel... but I am just starting to notice the joy of it! xD xD_

_Well, the chapter hopefully answered the question on Legolas' other hidden knives. And to your other question, yes, Legolas could have simply thrown one of his hidden knives at Drog. But even if he killed Drog there and then, the eored would have to face orcs and wargs... and the eored was unarmed with the weaponry on the other side. They needed a large distraction to add confusion. Battle is not always easy, there has to be tactics. Legolas would have taken the orc down if he had been alone but he had a wounded Eomer to think of and an unarmed eored._

_As for Dorian; he is specially trained. Aiming would not have been a problem, he would have had a clear shot, but he was alone with somewhere around two hundred orcs and prisoners that comprised of women and children. Killing Drog would mean that the orcs would take Dorian down. Even if the elf would have fled, the orcs would have then turned to their helpless prisoners for revenge. So Dorian did what he thought best; stop the orc-leader from killing the woman by whipping her, and run. When Drog returns to the caves, he has too much on his mind to think about the woman._

_whydoineedapenname:_

_Thanks. :) I am glad. I often have the trouble of making sure the speed stays true throughout the story and I am happy that turned out well. One problem in my writing has been taken down. :D :D_

_Well, regarding your question, I can say that yes, Aragorn and Faramir will appear but not any time soon. I have something special planned out for them._


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

The book was interesting.

It truly was, Legolas thought with mild interest. It was on the customs of the Rohirrim, which were interesting. The cover of the book was interesting too, but the writing on it was more interesting. In fact, the entire book altogether was interesting. It was so interesting that Legolas barely read half of the first page and decided that there were better ways to fall asleep. Then again, he did not want to fall asleep. He was too worried and awake for it.

Legolas placed the book on the table beside him and glanced about the Main Hall. It was too quiet, the people had left for their daily chores, leaving Legolas to muse on his chair. He had reached Aldburg slightly more than a half an hour after Éomer had lost consciousness. The king had gone pale and cold in his arms. when he had finally reached the Main Hall, the healers had already arrived. He heard mutterings about blood loss and the uncleaned wound (and he suspected that they were questioning the use of elves) when they whisked Éomer away into one of the nearer bedrooms. Legolas had followed, only to have the door slammed in his face.

"This is the second time during this stay in Rohan." Legolas had mumbled to himself when it happened.

It had been an hour since then and still he heard of nothing. He had retreated to the Main Hall, which was empty and tried to pass the time but he had nothing to do. He sat, got up, walked, sat down again, got up, walked and repeated the entire cycle. He found the book and read half of the first page he had turned and decided that although he lived in a Mannish Realm (for now, he hoped) he certainly did not need to know of their customs in the most boring fashion. He was certain Éothain and Gamling can come across more interesting ways to tell him about their customs.

Impatient to know what was going on at the battlefield he had left earlier, Legolas reached out and searched for his friend.

_~Dorián, I am bored.~ _Legolas said once he was sure his friend was not fighting. If Dorián had been, the sudden announcement could have been disastrous. Dorián chuckled through the link.

_~I am sorry you had to leave so soon, my friend. We could have gotten you to do the cleaning up for us.~_

_~On second thought, I am fine where I am. What news?~_

_~Good news,~ _Dorián answered. _~We have wiped out the orcs and the wargs. Men have been sent to the caves to free the women and children and kill what orcs have escaped us. I plan to go with them. Éothain and the éored that had accompanied the king are coming to Aldburg. What news of Éomer?~_

_~I do not know.~ _Legolas replied, his frustration slightly evident. _~It had been but an hour and I see no one to ask of him.~_

_~Have you had your wounds seen after?~_

_~They are superficial.~_

_~They won't be if they fester.~ _Dorián said firmly. _~Get them seen to. That will give you something to do.~_

_~I see no one.~ _Legolas said, and at that moment, a woman appeared through one of the side-doors of the Hall. She was somewhere in her late thirties, with a smooth, calm face and a pleasant smile.

_~To be speak of the devil.~ _Legolas mumbled.

_~That is Élfhelm's wife.~ _Dorián said, his amusement evident. _~She is quite sweet but she will set you straight if you go against her wishes. And be nice to her.~_

_~You seem to speak from experience.~_

_~I am… you forget that I had to come to Aldburg for reinforcements. Her sweetness is quite… intimidating.~_

"Master Elf," the woman said coming to stand in front him. Legolas broke off his link with Dorián and stood up abruptly. His wound on his leg protested at the sudden use, sending a jolt of pain through the affected muscles. The woman's serene face turned into a look of concern.

"Are you wounded, my lord?"

"It is nothing that time would not heal, my lady." Legolas said, quickly masking the pain that seeped into his voice.

"I once thought that elves were wiser than the Race of Men." The noblewoman remarked, spreading her arms and guiding the elf back to his chair. She continued, "but it seems that perhaps males are stubborn, regardless of their gender." Her voice was so sweet and guileless that Legolas laughed.

"Forgive me to fall short to your expectations, my lady." Legolas replied. "But I truly do not think that I require assistance."

"I see," the head of the household said softly. "And there, I believe we are at a disagreement. You will have your wounds looked after."

Dorián was right; she truly was frightening. She was unarmed, of course and there was no air of threat about her. in fact, it was quite the contrary, and it was frightening for any male, regardless of his race.

"I will do as you wish." Legolas said meekly. The woman's face instantly brightened with a smile.

"Excellent! I will see that you are tended."

Legolas gave a sigh of relief as she walked away. Dorián's amused voice filled through the link.

_~See? I told you.~ _Dorián said, laughter shaking the link.

_~Shut up and go away.~ _Legolas grumbled at his childhood friend, a small smile betraying his own humor. How did one woman manage to get him to do something that not even Arwen was capable of persuading him? He truly had no idea.

The woman returned, this time followed by a young maid.

"Come, come, my lord! Let us take you to a bedroom for a little privacy."

"I fear your name has escaped me." Legolas said.

"Brithwyn, my lord. I would not blame you if you had forgotten. When you came here last, you stayed for barely a day before setting off on the road again." Élfhelm's wife said. In the brighter corridors, Legolas caught a better look of her. She was tall like many of the Rohirrim, with flowing golden hair bound in a simple braid. Her noble bearing lay in her clothes that were made of rich green cloth and belted with a gilded belt. Her pleasant smiled made her look more innocent and even younger, but underneath the surface he senses a strong lady; a leader when her husband was absent. And her youthful face could not hide the fact that she was almost nearing forty. From what he had learned, Élfhelm had two grown sons; one was killed in a skirmish, presumably under Grima's orders and the other was still alive but in a vegetative state after he had taken a blunt blow to the head on the fields of Pelennor.

"In here," Brithwyn said, indicating the open door leading to a well-made bedchamber. Legolas stepped in and looked about. It was airy and full of light, the windows opening towards risen sun. The room had lighter colors, unlike the rich and gaudy colors of Meduseld.

"I am afraid our only healers are busy with the king at the moment. So if you would permit, I will take care of your wounds." Brithwyn said, nodding towards the maid to bring in the steaming water and bandages. But Legolas shook his head.

"Tell me first about the king. What news of him?"

"I cannot tell as of yet." Brithwyn said briskly. "The wounds were unclean, as is yours to be, most likely. The blow to the head is what worries them, from what I know. If he has other injuries that require attention, I do not know of them. Now, please," Brithwyn said, gesturing towards the seat. "I must see to your wounds. The fear over one royal life is enough excitement for one day."

Legolas sat down in surprise. "You know who I am?" Legolas asked. Brithwyn gave a small smile.

"My lord, your reputation precedes you. Now come! We really must see to your wound. Mayhap we would have word on our king's health once we are done."

Dorián certainly was right about Élfhelm's wife.

oOo

When Legolas' wounds were seen to, the elf was finally allowed to roam about on his own free will. that is, until Brithwyn insisted on a bath and a good meal.

_~Dorián, where are you and the rest of the éored?~_

_~Are we taking long?~ _The spy asked. _~We decided to go together to the caves. We are returning from there now.~_

_~Hurry; you left me here to be coddled by a lady you knew will not leave me alone until I am properly cared for!~_

_~It is not her fault.~ _Dorián protested, amused. _~It is in her nature. She is bound to it. Any news of the king?~_

_~The healers have done their work and refuse to tell me anything. Get Éothain and Élfhelm here so that they could bully some information out of them.~_

_~Why not do it yourself?~_

_~I think you know what my methods are.~_

_~On second thought,~ _Dorián said, knowing Legolas' 'direct' methods. _~Wait for our arrival. We will be reaching the city in less than half an hour.~_

_~You are that close?~ _Legolas asked, surprised.

_~Aye.~_

Legolas broke off the link and turned abruptly. He left the bedroom Brithwyn had given him and made his way to the Main Hall. From there he used the main door to leave the building and took a route towards the city walls.

Aldburg, known as the "Old Fortress", was built on a more military than residential basis. The city walls were heavily fortified by stone and wood, taller than even the roofs of the houses. The main building where Marshal Élfhelm and his family resided was located in the center of the city. It was old, but it was functional and Aldburg had a large capacity, capable of taking in many refugees into its confines. Here and there, Legolas noticed makeshift tents where families from burnt and destroyed villages and towns lived. With the stone walls and the large number of soldiers marching about, it was small wonder why Aldburg was the military center for the Third Marshal in office.

He reached the city walls and chose to stand by the open gates. The gates were opened, waiting for the arrival of their marshal, the rescued prisoners and the men. Families gathered about, impatiently awaiting news of their men.

In few moments, the éored galloped into the city. The sounds of their horses' hooves were like a thunder and Legolas glimpsed Dorián riding among them. The rescued also rode with the men, sharing saddles or on the empty saddles of fallen riders, who would never return home.

Élfhelm signaled the men to stop, and they obeyed. As soon as the men dismounted, families rushed forward to welcome their returning men. Legolas pushed past some of them to reach Dorián.

"_Dorián, where is Éothain?"_

"_Nice to see you too,"_ Dorián said humorously. The spy knew full well that Legolas was secretly eyeing him up and down to check if he had any wounds. He added, _"Legolas, I am fine."_

"_I will be the judge of that."_ Legolas said in a clipped tone. _"Where is Éothain?"_

"_I do not know. He is here somewhere in this confusion, I can assure you that."_ Dorián said, before gesturing to a small figure beside him. _"Look what I found when the battle was over."_

Bradford's blue eyes met his. Legolas' heart softened and he knelt down to come to the child's eye level.

"You were very brave." Legolas said gently. "Not many would have been if they were in your position. But you kept a clear head and you used your surroundings to conceal you."

Bradofrd shyly held out Legolas' two hidden knives that the elf had given him for his task.

"These are yours." The boy said. "I kept them safe. I figured you would need them again."

"Thank you." Legolas said, taking the blades. "These do not come cheap, and I am grateful that you took good care of them."

Dorián knelt as well and placed his arm around the boy's shoulders.

"You show uncanny skill in stealth, little one." The spy said thoughtfully. "Not many would have deceived the wargs the way you did on the field, and you knew how to keep yourself hidden."

To the elves' surprise, Bradford was nonchalant. "Oh that was nothing." The boy said. "I did it many times. I just did not think I could use for something useful. War is all about fighting and heavy armor and swords."

"Perhaps," Legolas murmured. "Or perhaps not."

Bradford turned to the elven prince, confused. But Legolas did not elaborate. "You had best go and get some rest now," Legolas said. "You will need it. Your king will need you soon. Go to Lady Brithwyn."

The boy nodded and dutifully went. Legolas got up and straightened, stroking his chin thoughtfully as he watched the boy.

"_What are you thinking?" _Dorián asked softly, standing up from his kneeling position.

"_Hm?" _Legolas asked absently. _"Nothing, really. Well, it could be something but for the moment, it is nothing. An idea to pursue some other time, I believe. Come, let us go. I am sure there are refreshments awaiting you in the Main Hall. You would need them."_

Dorián made to follow Legolas but stopped. Turning his head, he scanned the rescued prisoners one more time, as if looking for something. And then he saw her; the young woman who had placed so much faith in her king and had the nerve to stand up against the orc-leader. She was safe and unharmed; at least from the whipping that would have surely killed her. She would never know who the concealed spy was, and Dorián preferred it that way. As a spy, he never liked any attention to himself, even in gratitude.

Knowing that the people he protected were alive and safe was a reward enough.

oOo

"So I bullied the healers as Master Legolas requested." Élfhelm said, his fist resting on his thigh as he ate.

"Just Legolas would suffice," Legolas replied, he and Dorián eating at a much slower pace than the men around them.

"Hm, well. The healers say that Éomer should be up and about in a matter of two weeks. The foolish boy cracked his skull. Apperantly he took one blow from that foul orc-leader's mace and it cracked his skull. It is extremely minor, but combined with blood loss; Éomer will not be feeling well for the next couple of days. In the meantime, we might have to keep him entertained so that he actually stays in bed."

"We will see to it when he wakes up." Éothain said, his sword hand bandaged from the time when he had gotten a cut. The captain was seated comfortably on his chair.

"What to do till then?"

"We will discuss that later. In the meantime, let us see what orcs are left in this part of the Riddermark." Élfhelm commented.

"My lords," Lady Brithwyn interrupted, her movements the most graceful at the table. "It is best to leave such detail for later, do you not think so?"

The elves and the men grimaced.

"As you wish, Lady Brithwyn." They chorused. Amusingly, Élfhelm was among them.

oOo

When night fell, Legolas was surprised to find Dorián standing outside his bedroom. The spy was somber, armed and equipped for travel.

"_I must go."_ Dorián said to him. _"I have done my task to help you but other orcs still roam the areas around Aldburg. I am sure of it. After that, I must look for the nests of the outlaws before the caravans start to arrive."_

"_Be careful and let Earendil shine on your path." _Legolas said, embracing his age-old friend.

"_Try to stay alive in the meantime." _Dorián said, turning around after his farewell.

"_Dorián!" _Legolas called. The spy turned about quizzically. Legolas grinned and said, _"You owe me a quiver, my friend. I killed thirty-five orcs before I made my escape."_

Dorián laughed and shook his head before disappearing into the gloom of the corridor.

Smiling a little, Legolas returned to his bedroom. Standing beside the open window that overlooked the backyard of the Hall, Legolas absently stroked his chin as he thought. That boy was certainly not made to be a warrior. Maybe something else would suffice…

**~S~**

_Author's Note:_

_Yeah, I know, I know. I said 1st Octobaer, 2013. But the date still stands if for some reason I disappear again. My timings are too unprediactable at the moment. I cannot really make out a decent note, my studies had basically fried my brains, lol._

_At least I removed the cliff hanger._

_Replies to reviews:_

_Emi:_

_Yeah, I know it does some a little cruel that Legolas let him go like that but war changes many things and situations callls for some things that we normally would not even think of. But I have some plans for the boy. Originally it something else entirely but once I get there I would explain to you more fully. :)_

_Actually, I am not offended by you frankness. I also forget the title and remember only the plotline and the characters. I do not plan to abandon this story, but I turn my attention to my other stories for the sake of change. I tend to give hints? :O Maybe I should stop replying to reviews. :P_

_About Drog dying easily; I could have made a large battle scene there but that was too cliched for me and technically there were onl a handful of orc-leaders that truly were firghtening and difficult to defeat. My original idea was to make Drog one of them but I could not tolereate it because if he had been then Drog should go down in history too, making it non-canonic. And all those who defeated those historic orc-leaders were mortals. Legolas is an elf, and I do believe that elves are superior in battle because of their long experience._

_Not that many knives. One in boot, one strapped to each arm and one hidden underneath his tunic. Four in total. By the way, what do you mean that you agree with Eldariel's comment?_

_I am very sorry, I should make a longer reply but my head is really heavy at the moment. -.- :P_

_Eldariel:_

_Woops, did I get carried away? it sounds like I got carried away. Please do not mind me. I tend to ramble away. My mom calls it girl's disease; every girl likes to talk. :P_

_I am glad you enjoyed the chapter. Giving up on cliff hangers so soon? :P_

_Gimlifan8: _

_Thanks, :). I am glad you enjoyed it._

_brankel1: _

_As always, thank you!_

_aronoiiel:_

_Yeah, work can do that too. At least, I think it does. Mine gets fried with studies.-.-_

_Do not say anything bad about cliffies! I enjoy them so much. :D :D_

_I am glad you enjoy the humor. I am working on it for so long that I am sometimes worried if it is even humor anymore! :D :D_


	25. Chapter 25

_Author's Note:_

_Thank you to all those who have faved and are following this story. I am glad you guys are enjoying it._

**~S~**

Chapter 25

Dorián lay still on his abdomen in the cluster of grass, watching the orcs come out of the underground burrow from between the blades of grass. He was hooded, his black locks hidden underneath the cloth of the hood and his face was shadowed. His sight was unhindered though. And he scrutinized the orcs, mentally counting them.

These were regular orcs, who had fled the land of Mordor as far as they could once the Dark Lord was defeated. Their armor was broken and their swords were rusty and crude from lack of care. He found three prisoners, boys. But it was useless; the orcs killed them and Dorián knew he could not save them. These orcs were too many and very fresh. Dorián did not have the cover of the night to aid him in his escape, and he could not have gotten far with the orcs chasing them on these flat plains with the sun shining brightly in the morning. So he kept his silence as the boys were slain, but the elf still wanted to leave a parting shot, one stroke of revenge. Fion was right about him, Dorián thought with a small smile as he crawled backwards. Dorián could not compromise his position as a spy, but he still liked to lash out at his enemies, a final stroke from a spy at work.

Dorián made his way quietly across the edge of the gathering. He copied the movement of the wind, so that the grass that rustled about him as he moved would go unnoticed. He slowly came towards their water supply.

It was a barrel full of water; it was marked with what suspiciously looked like dried, caked blood. Dorián slipped his hand into a pouch hanging from his belt and drew out the finely grinded powder. The powder was in fact crushed leaves from one of the many poisonous plants that grew in Mirkwood. It was deadly, causing slow and painful death. It was one of the many useful weapons of the Mirkwood Rangers, who were well-known for their love to work with poison and in secrecy.

Moving softly, Dorián slowly left the comfort of the grass and crouched towards the barrel and slipped the powder into the barrel. He had no fear of being spotted; the key to work without being noticed was to move slowly and calmly. Sudden, jerky movements always draw the eye.

He disappeared into the grass as quickly as he emerged from it.

After the act, Dorián knew he should make himself scarce as soon as possible. He made his way away from the camp as quietly and quickly as he could as his training allowed. Some distance away, Doriá smiled. Some might have called him cocky for it.

_"I love my job."_ Dorián said to himself.

oOo

In the morning, Legolas chose to wear a loose shirt over his trousers to ward off the heat.

"How can Middle-Earth be so hot?" Legolas mumbled to himself, braiding his hair into one braid and then tying it into a knot away from his neck. Mirkwood was never hot, not even in summer. Summer in the forest was always cool and the winters were bitterly cold when the snow came from the mountains. The elves had found the summer in Rohan a little hard to settle in, but they had adapted quickly. Still, Legolas thought, adapting to one's surroundings doesn't mean that one has to actually enjoy the heat.

Legolas left his bedroom and made his way to the Main Hall, passing by Éomer's rooms as he did so. Two wings, East and West branched from the Main Hall. Éomer's rooms were in the West Wing along with Legolas' own. Fighting the urge to check into the wounded king's rooms, Legolas walked by.

He carefully avoided Lady Brithwyn, whom he was sure was awake despite the early hour. That woman was too intimidating for words. Winflead was never fooled by Legolas' charms and Éowyn possessed a steely will that Legolas challenged frequently. Arwen was stubborn, and quite capable to argue with him whenever he tried to escape with clever excuses. Brithwyn, on the other hand, was so sweet, innocent and guileless that Legolas found it difficult to refuse.

Slipping out of the large doors of the Main Hall without drawing attention to himself, Legolas breathed in the free, admittedly hot air. It was morning, but it was very hot, the heat from the day before accompanied by the coming heat from the rising sun.

Skipping down the steps by taking two or three at a time, Legolas reached the ground and made his way to the main stables. He opened the door and stepped inside.

A smell of fresh hay and horse greeted him. Legolas smiled as some of the horses looked up curiously to see who came so early. Legolas patted one or two as he passed by. He searched each stall until he found Arod.

_"Well met, my friend." _Legolas said softly, opening the small gate and entering the great horse's stall. Arod whinnied in reply. _"How do you feel?" _Legolas asked, gently running his hands over the horse's neck to check for anything out of place. His hands then went for the horse's trunk. Arod neighed and stamped his foot.

_"Your foreleg hurts?" _Legolas repeated. _"Come then, let me see."_

Bending, the elf took the horse's foreleg and brought up the hoof and checked. Tilting the hoof a little, Arod waited patiently as Legolas looked. The elf would understand; he would take away the pain.

_"It seems you have picked up some small stones, my friend." _Legolas said, running his fingers inside the edge. The elf grimaced. _"Very sharp stones, too."_

Legolas placed the horse's hoof down gently and straightened.

_"You should have said something." _Legolas accused. Arod shook his head and whinnied. _"Do not carry that tone with me, Arod. That must have hurt all night." _Legolas refused to listen to the horse's protests as he went over to where the supplies and gear was kept. Finding a hoof pick, he studied it before deeming it useful for the task. He returned to Arod.

_"You will have to be patient." _Legolas told the horse as he bent forward to take Arod's leg. _"After I am done, I will check your other hooves as well. Stay still. I am sorry, my friend. I should have checked in on you before retiring in the night."_

The picking took an effort, because the stones were wedged deep. After he was done, Arod gave a grateful snort and drooped his eyelids, wanting to catch what sleep he had missed in the night.

Legolas smiled and left quietly. Normally, such work was done by the stable hands. Éothain had assured him that Arod was well taken care of, but it seems that there were too many horses to look after because of the fact that Arod had been overlooked. Shaking his head, Legolas found Firefoot, and repeated his treatment (despite the fact the horse was guarded towards him). He found no problems; no one would dare leave the king's charger unchecked.

He did not lift his head from his work when he called out, "Bradford, what are you doing here?"

Legolas firmly squashed the growing chuckle in his chest as he heard buckets crash in the supply room, soon followed by what sounded like a pitch fork fall down with a dull thud against the ground. He heard a sheepish voice answer him.

"I was not needed at the Hall, so I thought-"

"So you thought you could come here and ruin the horses' well-earned sleep." Legolas finished dryly, finally straightening and patting Firefoot on his neck as a thank you for his cooperation.

Turning around, he found the boy standing at the open gate of Firefoot's stall. Bradford was looking at his shoes, looking ashamed. Legolas mentally chided himself; no child could understand his way of jesting.

The elf kneeled down in front of the boy and gazed at him for a while. Bradford seemed to hold his breath, waiting to be scolded.

"Do you know how to shoot?" Legolas asked.

Bradford's head jerked up in surprise at the unexpected question. "A-a little," he stammered, still bewildered. "But I know the crossbow."

Legolas stifled his grimace. A crossbow was different from a longbow, favored by Mirkwood and Ithilien Rangers both. The crossbow has heavier darts; they were easier to use and any soldier could master them quickly. But crossbow did not have precision, or the accuracy that came from long and vigorous practicing of longbow, which used light arrows that flew over a wider range.

"It will have to do." Legolas decided, getting up briskly. "Come, Bradford. We are going out for a ride."

"Now?"

"Aye, now! You are free and I have time to spare." The immortal said, placing a saddlecloth on Arod's back and lifting his saddle from the rack. "Do you know any game around Aldburg?"

"There is, um, a meadow behind Aldburg. Deers graze there, among-"

"Excellent! Come, come! No time to waste!"

"My crossbow-"

"Go and bring it quickly."

Later in his years, Bradford often wondered how he suddenly found himself sitting in front of the Elven Prince (who had become well-known for his apparent dislike for children) on his steed.

oOo

"I hear from a certain little boy that you have been offering lessons to him on riding and shooting." Lady Brithwyn said, smoothly placing a cup of steaming tea in front of Legolas. The elf looked up from his seat and smiled.

"I do not drink tea in such a hot weather," Legolas said, politely declining the cup.

"It will help you in gaining your strength in your wounded limb. Drink," Lady Brithwyn said sweetly.

Suddenly, Legolas could not control his hands from reaching out.

"As you wish, my lady." Legolas said meekly.

"That was not so hard now, was it?" The lady spoke, sitting down beside the elf on the bench. Her skirts rustled against the stoned floor.

"I am glad you pay attention to the boy." Brithwyn said, her voice sounding more serious. "Bradford is a good lad, but he could never be a warrior. And I fear a life in the city would be too dull for him."

Legolas lowered his now half-full cup carefully on the table. His next words should be wisely chosen.

"I do not doubt his intelligence." Legolas said slowly. "He is quick to learn, but he is uncertain of himself. And I see that he shows uncanny skill in-"

"Sneaking and being resourceful?" The lady finished, smiling. "What you have seen now is nothing as the way the boy had been before. When he parents was alive, the boy was full of life. He often got into trouble for his sneaking and his well-concealment, allowing him to listen to that which was not for his ears, but he always possessed a good heart. But when his parents were killed before him, he was reduced to frightened child, someone who not sure in his own talents anymore." Lady Brithwyn traced the embroidery on her sleeve. She looked up again, smiling gently as she said, "Your ride with him brought back the boy we all remember dearly."

"You know him?"

"Aye, his mother worked in the kitchens of this very Hall. Bradford had literally grown here. His father was a gate warden. They had gone to visit friends, when it happened. Bradford was brought to his maternal grandmother's place in Edoras, from where he became Éomer King's page."

"I see."

"I do not mean to sound insisting." Lady Brithwyn said, her voice now containing a plea in it. "But if you can keep him, even for just a while. It would do him good. Our king means well, but Bradford finds the page's duties torturous."

"I will do what I can." Legolas found himself promising. How was he getting into this mess?

"Wonferdul! I thank you!"

"I am only glad that I can be of service." Legolas mumbled.

"Well, I do not mean to intrude in your presence any longer. Excuse me." With that, Lady Brithwyn got up and left.

"What a woman," Legolas commented to himself as he reached for his tea.

Later, Éothain and Élfhelm found the elf in the Main Hall, reading the book he had found the day before.

"What are you reading?" Éothain asked, peering over the elf's shoulder. "On customs of the Rohirrim? Legolas, you could have picked a better book."

"I took whatever I saw first. Unfortunately, it does not make much of a reading. I assume you would explain your customs better?"

"Of course!" Éothain said, flashing a grin before adding as an afterthought. "Éomer's awake, by the way."

"Let us go and see him then." Legolas said, uncrossing his legs and setting the book on the side table. He turned to Élfhelm when he got up. "Greetings, Marshal. It is good to see you again."

"And to you," the man said gravely. "I expect that my wife had been able to find you good lodgings?"

"As well as ever." Legolas replied.

"Come, then. The king awaits."

"Although I do not think he will be pleased to see us." Éothain muttered to Legolas as they walked behind Élhelm. Legolas smirked.

Élfhelm led them through well-lit corridors that contrasted against the gloomy corridors of Meduseld. The Rohirric customs were quite prominent here, judging from the statues of horses on the pillars and the tapestries that decorated the walls. They stopped by a door.

"These were once Éomer's rooms when he was a Third Marshal." Élfhelm explained. "My wife thought it would be well if he was given the same rooms again." The Marshal raised his hand and knocked.

They heard growl from inside, "Go away and leave me in peace."

"Here we go again." Legolas muttered, making Éothain chuckle. "I feel as if history is repeating itself." Élfhelm, on the other hand, took no notice of them or the disgruntled king within. He pulled up the latch and entered.

Unlike the first time, Legolas had invaded Éomer's room months ago, this time the room was airy. The windows were wide open and light streamed into the room. The room itself was quite modest, with light colors and no carpets due to the heat of the summer. Éomer lay on his back and was looking away from them, his head bandaged.

"Did you not hear what I said?" Éomer growled, turning towards them. "I said- wait, it is you."

"Well, I am glad we gone pass the angry words of exiling me out of your room." Legolas said brightly, when Éomer spotted him.

"What are you doing here?"

"That is some thanks I get for saving your life." Legolas said, taking the liberty to sit down on the edge of Éomer's bed.

"Try to be more courteous in the future." Élfhelm said, taking a seat on a nearby chair.

"If you insist," Éomer said meekly. Élfhelm was more than twice Éomer's age. The man had seen the king grow before him. Éothain grinned, clearly enjoying his friend's embarrassment. He took up a chair and set it down. Unlike Élfhelm, he sat the wrong way with his chin resting on the arms on top of the back of the seat. Éothain glanced at Élfhelm, silently daring the older Rider to comment.

Élfhelm himself was large, though not as tall as Éomer. His hair and beard was pale gold, and his face held a serene expression. He was terrible in battle, but always kept a cool head in every situation. Éomer had always praised him highly. When he had been given the position of the Third Marshal, he accepted it readily and gracefully, which is something that cannot be seen in many soldiers. Howver, despite the fact that Éomer is now his superior, the Marshal is unafraid in reproaching him.

Éothain, on the other hand, had darker hair than Élfhelm's. A childhood friend of Éomer's, he had followed him readily and loyally in almost everything. But that did not mean Éothain was submissive or a fool. When alone or when in disagreement with Éomer's commands, he was quick to go against the king. Oftentimes, Éothain had been proved to be right, as Legolas had noticed during his stay here. The Rohirrim may look the same with large stature and flaxen-colored hair, but they were different in manner and temperament.

Élfhelm glanced at the Captain's unusual seat and decided not to reply.

"How are you feeling?" The Marshal asked.

"How do you think I feel with wounded head?" Éomer replied, half-humorous and half-serious.

"Is that what had happened?" Legolas asked, grinning.

"Is it not obvious?" Éomer demanded. "Accompanied with blood loss, I cannot get off this blasted bed."

"And the healers were busy with you for hours and that was all?" Legolas asked, incredulous. "The very least they could have done was to tell me how you were!"

"Were you worried?" Éomer asked, grinning.

"Nay, I was not." Legolas said irritably. "I was only worried about your horse. Carrying your dead weight would not have been easy. Of course I was worried!"

"How is Firefoot?" Éomer asked, smile fading.

"He has been breaking down his stall and he would not let anyone handle him." Éothain replied for Legolas. "He cares for his master deeply." Éothain's voice carried a mixture of admiration and annoyance.

"Well, he did allow me to check on him." Legolas replied.

"Bah! Your Elvish charms will not fool him for long!"

Legolas' retort was not heard when Élfhelm interrupted.

"Gentlemen, please, let us keep our hostilities to side and behave more of our respective ages?" the Marshal asked, his gaze flitting pointedly towards Legolas.

"Quite right," Éomer mumbled. "Go away and let me rest and peace."

"That means we have this day for our leisure." Legolas said cheerfully, standing up. He patted Éomer's hand. "Rest, good king! We will handle everything."

"That is what I am afraid of." Éomer mumbled.

oOo

"What should we do in the meantime?" Legolas asked Élfhelm, closing the door of the council room behind him.

"We have men ready to hunt orcs once your friend finds them." The Marshal answered, leaning against the table with his hands.

"There is not much we can do." Éothain said. "Our men are at the ready but we have yet to hear from Master Dorián. The grain is not yet here or we could have started to distribute it. And we have received no word from Thorin Stonehelm or we could have prepared for the dwarves' coming."

"All we can do is to wait, then." Legolas decided, refusing to glance at the map and refusing to admit that time was running out for the harvest.

"Well, we might as well make use of our time then." Éothain said, sitting down on a chair and placing his booted feet on the high table. He locked his hands behind his head and grinned at Legolas.

"So what did you want to know about Rohirric customs?" He asked. Legolas smiled and launched his questions. Élfhelm looked at them both and shook his head.

"Youth," he said, watching to two converse.

oOo

When Legolas entered his bedroom and felt a presence press against him mind, he knew he would have to brace himself. The presence was not very happy.

_~Booooooooy!~ _Fion's voice growled. Legolas sighed in despair. He should have known this would happen.

_~You know, Fion, most people usually greet one another by saying 'Greetings'.~_

_~Boy, what mischief had you been up to?~_

_~I have not been up to anything!~ _Legolas said indignantly.

_~Do not lie to me, lad! You have been up to something! You always get yourself into trouble!~_

_~I did not get into trouble. Trouble found me!~_

_~It has only been a little more than three days.~ _Fion's voice held exasperation in it. _~You could try to be a little- never mind.~ _Fion sounded weary. _~You are your father's son, there is no doubt about it. Why do I even bother?~_

_~Do not be like that.~ _Legolas protested, sensing the defeat in his former mentor's voice. _~Do you remember something my father had done when he was my age.~_

_~Aye,~ _Fion said heavily. _~Thranduil insisted that he could be just fine on an evening patrol at the edge of our forest. Without me! Can you imagine? And the fool came back with a broken arm and a wide grin on his face as if nothing happened.~_

_~A broken limb is nothing.~_

_~Bah!~_

_~How did you find out that we had an incident?~_

_~Dorián is not as good in keeping his mind secure and secret as you.~_

_~ You seem to have an uncanny ability in finding the things you desire…~_

_~Do not say that.~ _Fion said sharply. _~You said that to your father and nay! I am not him. I do not accept your challenge. You give me a headache even without a mental duel.~_

Legolas laughed.

_~So how are things at your end, Fion?~_

_~We are at Helm's Deep at the moment. And contrary to your situation, we are all unscathed and hale. We move out tomorrow in the morning. We have much to do.~_

_~So do we.~_

_~I still hold my age-old belief that keeping you and Dorián in the same region is disastrous.~_

_~I doubt he would be of so much trouble.~ _Legolas said.

_~Knowing you, he would have gotten himself into a lot of trouble.~ _Fion said wearily.

_~Come, come. Dorián is many things, but he is not reckless.~_

_~Legolas, this is Dorián we are talking about. The idiot loves to play with fire. He will always come close to the flames.~_

_~In this case, orcs.~_

_~Precisely.~_

oOo

The orc was blocking Dorián's view.

The elf was well-hidden in brambles. How he had managed to get under the prickly branches without a noise was a wonder for him as well; he had no idea how he will get out of them.

Thankfully, his trek had gotten him through, er, smelly regions which masked his own scent. The orcs will not be able to detect him. That is, Dorián corrected himself, until they came smelling this particular set of brambles.

_Move, you great, big, lazy lout. _Dorián thought inwardly as he fumed over the fact that the orc was blocking his sight.

As if in response to his mental statement, the orc moved to its side. Dorián peered at the tightly knit gathering of orcs. There were thankfully no prisoners in this place, Dorián thought with mild satisfaction. His work was done here. He needed to speak with Legolas so that an éored is sent here.

He started to creep back and stopped, feeling the thorny bushes catch onto his cloak. If Fion had been here, Dorián would not have heard the end of it.

So the elf stayed silently, waiting for the orcs to drop their guard for the night so that he could retreat. With one wary eye at the orcs, Dorián waited for time to pass by.

Six hours later, Dorián finally found the opportunity to creep away unnoticed.

_I hate my job, _Dorián thought miserably as he successfully slipped away from the orcs' gathering. His cloak was tattered but hopefully he would be able to mend it once he returns to Aldburg.

He made a considerable distance until he was sure he would not be seen, after which he straightened and broke into a run. He came to the edge of the forest, where he stood for a while. He looked up, enjoying the beauty of the moon and the stars. The night held its own splendor, but Dorián had long given his love for the morning.

That was when he felt a blade against his throat.

**~S~**

_Author's note:_

_I do not know if anyone is still following this. I think some might have thought that with the date set, I might not update but yeah, here I am. I suddenly got a day free so I thought, why not?_

_Well, I hope Dorian's narrative of the story kept it a little exciting with not much going on here. But life is full of times that are exciting and times that are not so exciting (AKA dull). _

_Yeah, and the cliff hanger. :D Sorry, that one cropped up out of nowhere. Originally this chapter was longer and with a cliffhanger but I had to cut it short and look where I cut it from. :P_

_A lot of you enjoyed Brithwyn, and I am glad. I always pictured Elfhelm (in my head) as a grave, honorable soldier and I thought it would be fun to have a similar type of wife. That would make a really majestic couple._

_Sorry for my rambling. :P_

_If there is something wrong in this chapter, please go easy on me. I have an important career-determining exam this week and I am a mess at the moment. I cannot even think straight. :)_

_Oh, and I will update faster if I get more reviews. In the meantime, Dorian is stuck in this dangerous situation. Sorry, Dorian, your life is in the readers' hands._

_ *runs fast before Dorian catches her*_

_Replies to reviews._

_aronoiiel: Haha, I never noticed it but you are right. She does remind me of Unohana too. Well, I think I answered your question about Dorian in the chapter, lol._

_Guest: Sorry, I kept you waiting. This chapter should have been up three days ago but my time and mind would not allow it, lol. I hope I eased some of that restlessness *glances at the cliff hanger*_

_...or not._

_Ilovevollyball:_

_*munches on the cookies*_

_That was good treat. ;) definitely had me going!_

_I hope your enjoyed your reunion. Haha, it happens, it happens. Who could live without internet? :P_

_I am glad you enjoyed the last chapter. :)_

_brankel1: Yep, the boy's safe! :D_

_Sandy-wmd:_

_Thanks. I am glad you liked those parts, they are among my favourites. Yes, you right. :D She meant 'races'. I did not realize the mistake. I corrected it... at least, I think I did. O_o''_

_Gimlifan8:_

_I honestly did not notice it until you had commented on it. thank you. _

_1monster2:_

_Haha, you are pretty much on the right tract. Remember 'brothers at war'? I needed to smooth Legolas' character a little for that story. So that is why I am not updating it until this one is complete._

_emi:_

_I am not so easily offended. I mean, it would be silly if I got offended. I was the one who asked after all. I should expect all sorts of replies. _

_Anyway, I am glad you enjoed Dorian's role. I wanted his narration to be a little more detailed when it came to fieldcraft because that is, after all, what he is trained in. Legolas is trained in the same way but for the moment his role is more of an administrative nature._

_I do not mind your rambling. :D I enjoy it so much because there are really few reviewers who take the time to add detail to their review and I enjoy your reviews very much. And forgetting is in human's nature. Look at me; I missed out two entire chunks from the previous chapters. :P_

_As for Bradford, he is still a little undecided, but I realized that I needed to soften Legolas' nature a little bit for some other designs I have for him._

_Haha, another one who enjoyed Brithwyn immensely. I am really glad. :D_


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

The intruder was holding his sword from Dorián's right side. Instinctively, Dorián knew that the intruder was leaning on his right. Dorián could step back, let the sword follow him but kneel and swipe his legs underneath his opponent, unbalancing him.

Dorián stepped back, the sword following him as he did so but once he dropped to the ground, he suddenly became aware of the a hissing noise of a dagger swiping from behind. Apparently, his opponent was not a slow thinker.

Dorián immediately twisted out of harm's way. The sword and dagger met each other where he had been standing. The elf quickly faced his enemy again, bringing out his dual knives as he did so.

"My word!" The enemy exclaimed. "Legolas!"

Dorián frowned, his black locks still hidden in his hood and his face shadowed by the hem of the hood cast low over his face. The intruder was undoubtedly a man, but his travelling cloak and hood hid his features as well. However, from the man's voice and manner, it seemed as if he had been in good terms with Dorián's best friend.

The man dropped his sword and dagger, and held his hands up in a gesture of peace. Then one of those hands went up to pull back his hood. Black locks of the length of his shoulders became visible in the moonlight. Sharp grey eyes that discerned what was concealed peered into Dorián's own. His beard was short and becoming, but there was an apologetic smile upon his face.

"Forgive me, Legolas. I had not known it was you."

"Who are you?" Dorián finally asked. The intruder realized his mistake when he noticed that the voice was much lighter than Legolas' firmer tones.

"You are not Legolas." The man said, smile fading and hostility returning. He moved to pick up his blades but he stopped when one of the dual knives embedded just inches away from the hand reaching out for his weapons.

"One move and you die. Do not think I am unarmed without that knife." Dorián said, nodding towards the knife he had thrown. "I have knives aplenty and I can use my bare hands as well."

"I do not doubt you." The man said seriously, his hand still outstretched as he daren't move.

"Now, tell me." Dorián continued. "What business do you have in the Riddermark?"

"My business is my own, good Master." The man replied coolly. As certain as he was that Dorián could kill him where he stood, the man was not at all cowed to submissiveness.

"Yet another man with hopes of murder?" Dorián asked coldly. "The first attempt had failed and now they send another."

"Rest assured," Dorián continued. "You will not harm the Lady Éowyn. You did wrong to cross blades with me if that was your intent."

"To kill the fair Lady Éowyn was never my intent." The man said quietly, straightening from his bending position and holding up his hands again in a gesture of peace. "Indeed, I would rather die than to harm her, for she is my lady wife."

Dorián's eyes widened in surprise and his own blade fell from his hand. He pulled back his hood, allowing his own black locks to fall about his shoulders. The man's eyes widened as well as he took in the appearance of the elf.

"Éarendil, our Star of Hope." Dorián breathed. "You are Faramir of Gondor."

oOo

The deer was grazing peacefully in the meadow. The smaller, softer tufts of grass were much more to its liking than the longer, harder ones. It enjoyed the feel of the sun on its furry back, and it continued to graze in the soothing atmosphere of the meadow.

Then the breeze blew and it caught a strange scent in the wind. Its ears perked up and sensed the incoming danger. At once, it straightened and bounded away, few seconds before a heavy metal dart embedded itself into the ground the deer was standing in.

Hidden in the grass were Legolas and Bradford. The two lay on the ground, on their abdomen and the boy was a little disappointed.

"I missed again." He said sadly, looking down at his now empty crossbow.

"You hurried yourself." Legolas told him. "You should have taken the time. The deer would have not taken your scent into account if you had waited."

"But I missed yesterday and I also missed today!"

"You will learn to hit your targets in time." Legolas said smoothly. Then he got up, startling a few pheasants that were pecking the seeds nearby. He dusted his breeches. "Come, youngling. Let us go. We will be missed back in Aldburg if we do not hurry."

Bradford nodded and grabbed his quiver full of darts and slung his crossbow.

"Can I ask you something?" Bradford said, trying vainly to meet Legolas' longer stride. The elf noticed and slowed down his pace so that the small boy could keep up.

"What is it?"

"Why are you helping me?"

Legolas stopped and turned to regard the boy. The elven-year-old was too small for his age. It was obvious that he would always remain on the smaller side, even if he got his 'growing spurt' as he heard the Rohirrim call it. But despite it all, the boy was still strong from his regular manual labor as the king's page, capable of holding the heavy crossbow and the quiver with a practiced ease. However, the boy's eyes held a small hint of insecurity accompanied by the curiosity in the elf's surprising behavior.

"We should go back." Legolas repeated in answer. "No doubt Éomer would have some need of you."

Turning around, Legolas walked over to where his horse was tethered and grazing quietly. Bradford gave a small smile and shouldered his crossbow before following the elf.

oOo

They reached the fortress and parted ways at the stables. Bradford hurried up the steps to the Main Hall, missing many amused and kind smiles directed his way. The boy was small, but he was a favorite of everyone there. Many noticed how the boy was suddenly becoming more happy, content and lively ever since Legolas started to give him attention.

Legolas, however, did not miss the welcoming smiles Riders had directed towards the elf. The Rohirrim did not expect the elf to give attention to a mortal child. Elves were always so ethereal, and holding an unattainable status that their hearts had instantly warmed towards Legolas when they first heard of his little rides with Bradford.

"_Nevertheless," _Legolas told Arod as he started to groom him. _"I am not looking after their children for them. I cannot. I simply will not. I still hold onto my belief." _Arod snorted. Legolas nodded.

"_I agree with you. Children are absolute nuisance to look after." _Still, there was a small smile on his face as he recalled Bradford's enthusiasm in the hunting.

Once he was done with Arod, Legolas climbed the steps leading to the Main Hall, taking two or three at a time.

"Éothain!" Legolas called out to the Captain, who was breaking his fast. "How is Éomer?"

"Still in bed," Éothain answered, taking extra care not to spill his drink as he felt Lady Brithwyn's scrutinizing eyes on him.

"Still in- What is he doing still in bed?" Legolas hissed, taking his seat beside the burly Rider. He made sure his voice was low; he could not suffer another reprimand from Lady Brithwyn just yet.

"Legolas, he cracked his head."

"Minor crack, Éothain, it was a minor crack. Hold, I am going to get him up."

"I wish you good luck then. If the lady of the household comes after you, even Élfhelm could not save you."

Legolas briefly considered his options, and then decided. "I will take my chances."

With that Legolas slipped out his seat and walked towards the doors leading to the West Wing. He gave a bright smile to Lady Brithwyn, who merely smiled back.

"My lord elf," Brithwyn called out as Legolas placed his hand on the door to push it open. "I do hope that you do not intend to awaken our king. Know that I would be greatly displeased if his rest is disturbed."

Legolas gulped. He had challenged many forces, but it is best to let this one slide.

"I do remember that I had something of importance to do in the West Wing but it seemed to have slipped from my mind." Legolas mumbled, retreating quickly until he retook his seat beside Éothain. The captain chuckled through the morsel in his mouth.

"What's the matter, elf? Frightened when the doe growled?"

"Keep quiet." Legolas muttered back, sinking in his seat.

"Lord Éothain, please finish your food before you speak. And Master Elf, it would be well if you straighten yourself." Lady Brithwyn called out, reaching over to attend to her husband before retreating to the kitchens. The mentioned duo rectified their shortcomings immediately. For the first time, Legolas heard Élfhelm chuckle in amusement.

"You know, when I first married her, I was dismayed to find how proper she was." Élfhelm said. "But when I realized that other men could not refuse her unintended commands, I started to enjoy it most fully."

"We are so glad that we could provide some entertainment." Éothain replied, sarcasm in his voice. Legolas raised his fist in the air as a silent agreement, making Élfhelm chuckle once more.

"What are all of you planning to do today?" Legolas asked.

"Éothain plans to spar with me in the practicing ring." Élfhelm answered.

"What he means is that he bullied me into accepting his challenge to spar with him in the practicing ring." Éothain informed him.

"Surely it would not be so bad."

"I would like to see you coming out of the practicing ring hale and unscathed after a bout with Marshal Élhelm."

"Nonsense," Élfhelm replied smoothly. "I am not so rough in the ring."

"That is because you are not getting beaten to pulp." Éothain muttered under his breath. Élfhelm did not seem to catch his words.

"What was that?" The Marshal asked.

"Nothing. What do you intend to do, Legolas?"

"Absolutely nothing," Legolas replied grinning. "I had not had the time to myself ever since I came here to Riddermark. I would enjoy a day of doing nothing."

"What!"

"Really, Éothain. I am immortal. I have time to spare."

"Enjoy yourself, then!" Éothain said, laughing. "But keep to your own rooms if you truly plan to do nothing. Lady Brithwyn is of the practical type; she will put any idle hands to good use if she finds them!"

"I will keep clear of her." Legolas promised. As if to stay clear of her, Legolas got up from his seat and started to retreat to the West Wing. "Enjoy your spar, men!"

"Oh, I will." Élfhelm said quietly, a slow smile dawning on his face. Éothain was proud that he did not gulp in fear at that smile.

oOo

He had just entered his rooms when he felt Dorián's presence press against his mind.

_~You are alive.~ _Legolas said in amusement. _~Fion was sure that you would have gotten yourself killed by now.~_

_~Ha,~ _Dorián said bleakly. _~I almost did. Or rather, I almost killed someone of importance.~_

_~Dorián, what did you do?~ _Legolas asked, suddenly alert.

_~Well, there was a near incident.~_

_~And,~_

_~It is a funny story, actually.~_

_~Dorián!~_

_~Fine!~ _The spy snapped. _~I was scouting about like you asked and I did find some orc gathering. The first one was in the plains. Well, they will not be there any longer- I took care of them- but anyway, I found another one and they will be a problem- I think that Élfhelm could take of them- then there was another one… no wait, it was the same one as the first one. Never mind-~_

_~Dorián, you are not making any sense.~_

_~Faramir is here.~_

_~WHAT!~_

_~And he was the one I almost killed.~_

_~Dorián,~ _Legolas said slowly, pinching the bride of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. _~Have you taken a leave of your senses?~_

_~Not that I am aware of, no.~ _Dorián said seriously, but there was a hint of humor underneath his tone.

_~Where are you now?~_

_~Standing at the city gates.~_

_~Stay there, then. I am coming.~_

_~I was afraid you were going to say that.~ _Dorián mumbled before breaking off his link.

Legolas left his room and closed the door behind him.

_"So much for my free time," _Legolas muttered.

He made his way towards the Main Hall and left the building through the main doors. Once he reached the ground, he saw Élfhelm and Éothain entering the main street. Judging from their appearances, the two had been sparring.

"I see you have gotten the message." Legolas said, meeting their pace as he walked beside them.

"Indeed, we did." Élfhelm said. "How did you find out?"

"I spoke with Dorián through our mental-speech."

"Elves never cease to surprise me."

You do not seem so surprised, Legolas thought inwardly.

The gates were open and people milled about, many of them chattering excitedly as they took a glimpse of their White Lady's husband. Legolas shouldered his way through, Élfhelm and Éothain following close behind.

Dorián and Faramir stood together, conversing quietly as if they were old friends rather than acquaintances who nearly killed one another just few hours ago. They had been given refreshments and were sipping the cool drinks every now and then as they spoke.

"Close the gates." Élfhelm commanded the wall guards. "The danger of the orcs has not yet passed. Come in, the both of you." The Marshal said gruffly, this time to Dorián and Faramir. "Do not stand on in the way."

Once the gates closed, Legolas embraced Dorián.

_"It is good to see you alive, my friend."_

_"Nonsense," _Dorián said, playfully hitting his fist against Legolas' shoulder. _"I was only gone a day."_

_"I must thank the Steward then. His sudden arrival will work in more good ways than one."_

He pulled back and regarded his best friend.

_"Your cloak is tattered." _Legolas said finally.

_"Excellent observation," _Dorián said dryly. _"Now shouldn't you be greeting our other guest?"_

_"Fine," _Legolas said, letting go of Dorián. He turned to where Faramir was standing. The respectable Steward was conversing amiably with Élfhelm and Éothain. Faramir's attention was diverted once he noticed Legolas.

"Well met," Faramir said, smiling warmly as he spread his hands.

"Well met, indeed." Legolas said, taking Faramir's hand and shook it. The Steward smiled and pulled the elf into an embrace. Then he pulled back and regarded both Legolas and Dorián.

"You two are very similar." He said finally.

"That is not necessarily a compliment." Legolas said laughing.

"I am standing right here." Dorián protested.

"Although you have met him, allow me to introduce my friend, Dorián. We have been friends since childhood."

"I am grateful for the more formal introduction than the way we had met." Faramir said.

"How about we take this conversation inside?" Éothain said with a cough, his eyes flitting meaningfully towards the women who were listening in.

"Indeed," Legolas said. The men and the elves started to make their way back to the Main Hall.

"So tell me," Legolas said to Faramir. "What were you doing in the Wild? You could have come straight to Aldburg."

"Indeed I could have, but unfortunately some of the outlaws took wind of my arrival. After that I kept out of the cities and to the Wild. Before I left, though, I heard of the coming of the orcs and I decided to take a longer route to Aldburg. It was going rather well when I decided foolishly to test a formidable force." Faramir ended with a smile towards the spy.

"Your wife and brother-in-law will be happy to see you."

"As I will be happy to see them. How is Éomer of late?"

"Well and himself," Legolas replied. "He had been injured in a surprise ambush two days ago. But the injuries are minor and he will be well soon."

"That is good news, and what of my lady wife?"

"She was well when I saw her last." Legolas said. "But if you wish to know more, then I believe I am at a loss to help. Perhaps your travel to Edoras would be more fruitful."

"Indeed, but I will see first I could be of some service here."

They entered the Main Hall, where Lady Brithwyn waited for them.

"My wife, Lady Brithwyn," Élfhelm introduced the woman.

"We have met in my wedding." Faramir replied, bowing formally.

"It is good to meet you again." The Lady said kindly. "Come, no doubt you are tired from your time in the wilderness. I have prepared food and lodgings for you. Follow me, you will eat in your rooms." Élfhelm coughed lightly.

"My dear, Faramir must speak with us first."

"Husband, it can wait." The Lady said sweetly.

"It can indeed." Élfhelm commented immediately.

Faramir looked confused at the exchange but Legolas leaned over and said, "It would be wise not to go against her wishes."

Faramir gave a humorous laugh.

"Indeed," The Steward said. "Wives are not to be trifled with!"

**~S~**

_Author's Note:_

_Who is happy on seeing Faramir? :D_

_Replies to reviews:_

_KnightGhost10287:_

_I couldn't let him into some sort of trouble, or my readers would be coming at me with pitchforks and burning torches for letting Dorian get injured again._

_1monster2:_

_Lady Brithwyn, you mean. By the way, how is that story coming along in which you asked for Fion? If it is possible, can I read it? :)_

_whydoineedapenname: _

_Is this fast enough? ;) _

_I am glad that you are interested in Bradford. I have some plans for him._

_Ilovevollyball:_

_She is certainly strong-willed, isn't she! :D_

_Haha, you review made my day, lol. I hope you enjoyed the fast update._

_Nah, the ques is not stupid. Yes, Dorian is my OC. :)_

_brankel1:_

_Thank you. I am glad you enjoyed it. :)_

_Sandy-wmd:_

_Yes! Yes! That was the word I was looking for. It was a 'filler' chapter. There is a little progress in this chapter but I guess it was a little short than the usual 4k words. Ah ,well. I will make it up in the coming chapters._

_P.S. Thanks for the compliment. :)_

_emi:_

_Dorian like a kid playing an xbox, you know I can completely imagine him doing that._

_No, I was not going to soften him. I just need to smooth the edges a little. I do not him to seem cold towards children, just unsure of how to handle them which causes him to stay aloof with them._

_I always imagined Thranduil as easygoing. When I read the Hobbit, I imagined the King as wise but playful, cautious and deadly in battle. Maybe, I am expecting so much, but hey, a fan can dream. ;)_

_Giving up on me so soon? :P I know I am unpredictable, but I cannot be **that **unpredictable... can I? Anways, you see that I am going to approach the criminal's case very soon now that Faramir is here. _

_No, poor Bradofrd cannot do anything like that! That boy is too young and small to hold a heavy sword. The idea is not so bad though, but it would not fit his personality. :)_


	27. Chapter 27

_Author's Note:_

_As promised. :)_

**~S~**

Chapter 27

At midnight, Éothain found that he could not sleep. The Lady Brithwyn had insisted that all the men were to go to bed early. The advice was sound but unfortunately it was not doing much good.

Éothain crept out of his room when he was sure Lady Brithwyn had retired to bed. When he went to the kitchens, he found out that he was not the only one awake. Sitting around the table were Faramir, Legolas and Élfhelm.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" The Captain asked Faramir, sliding into a seat beside Legolas.

"I found myself well-rested when Lady Brithwyn 'asked' me to head for bed at noon. Unfortunately, I am now wide-awake at night."

"Well, shouldn't you be asleep?" Éothain asked Élfhelm. "I do not want your lady-wife coming looking for you and find us all out of bed."

"I am going." Élfhelm said, laughing as he got up. "I do not know how long you three plan to stay up, but my wife awakens three hours before dawn. She is quite likely to check if all three of you are still asleep, so I would advise you to head for bed early."

"Do not worry; we will make sure Faramir heads off to bed." Legolas said.

"Make sure you head off to bed also." Élfhelm replied as he carefully closed the door of the kitchens behind them. When he left, Faramir turned to Legolas.

"Éomer was right about you, Master Elf. You truly are 'mother henning' everyone here."

"You do not know the half of it." Éothain muttered.

"And that comes from the man who nannies the King."

"What is this about a nanny?" Faramir asked, confused. Grinning, Legolas was about to reply when Éothain hastily interrupted.

"So, Legolas, tell us where is Dorián?"

"He has already left."

"What!"

"It is in his blood." Legolas replied. "Dorián enjoys his life as a spy and a Ranger."

"What about you? I see you very less out in the field." Éothain said.

"That is because I was called here for a different reason entirely." Legolas growled.

"Maybe that is because you are actually not much of a use on the field."

Faramir choked on his drink. Legolas glared at the burly, seemingly innocent Rider. He will get his revenge.

"Do you hear something?" Faramir asked curiously, cocking his head to the side to listen.

"I hear nothing." Éothain said. Legolas smirked; this was a good opportunity.

"Aye, I do." Legolas answered.

"I wonder what it is." Faramir said, getting up from his seat. Legolas kept a straight face.

"It is the Lady Brithwyn. She is making her surprise rounds today it seems." He said.

Éothain paled immediately and muttered an excuse, fleeing for his room. Faramir made a hasty retreat behind him. He was not afraid, but he was certainly wise not to go against a lady of such caliber!

Legolas chuckled softly and leaned back at ease.

"I see I can still sound very convincing." He told the empty kitchen.

oOo

Dorián hissed in pain as an arrow embedded into his shoulder. He looked up, his face shadowed by the hood he had pulled over his head. The man that had shot him was loading another arrow. Before he could shoot though, Dorián ducked and narrowly missed a flying dart. _These outlaws were too well-equipped for their own good, _Dorián though inwardly as he fought to ignore the pain in his shoulder. He slipped into the darkness of the fields, using the tall grass and the stones for cover as he moved further and further away from the outlaws' den. He heard shouts behind him becoming dimmer and dimmer. The outlaws had given up their pursuit.

Dorián leant against a rock and sank down to the ground. He glanced at the arrow in his shoulder. Taking it out will hurt; he might as well get it over with. His fingers grasped the arrow and tugged. Pain flared into his shoulder; he needed to work it out.

As he did, he forced his mind to drift to other topics.

He came upon the outlaws' den purely by accident. He was trekking over to a nearby town when he noticed Mannish tracks leading through the grass. The area was no used as a road, so he knew the trail was worth following.

He came into a group of outlaws with blades and spears and some other assortments of weapons. _Legolas and Éomer do not know just how unruly they are, _Dorián thought with a grim note as he finally pulled out the arrow. He gazed at the bleeding wound. He was no healer, though he knew basic aid. And to put it in mild words, Fion would throw a fit if he knew that he had gotten hurt again.

He dressed his wound and debated if he should go back or not. Staying where he was certainly would not help, and it was quite likely that the outlaws would move away now the he had found them.

"_I might as well go back." _Dorián mumbled as he got. This time, he reminded himself not to go stomping around in the grass. Strangely, his inner voice sounded like Fion.

He crept back to the clearing again. When he reached there, he found that he was the main topic. A group of men sat together, sheltered from view by the large rocks that encircled them. The lanterns were shielded with cloth to prevent them from giving out unnecessary light that would draw the eye. They were all normal men of the Riddermark. Had Dorián not know these were outlaws, he would have easily mistook them for farmers, farriers or stable boys.

"Where is the intruder?" The leader asked.

"He has fled." The archer who had shot Dorián said. The elf felt an immense dislike for the man; he had the nerve to catch him off guard!

"You should have pursued him, but no matter. We must shift from here anyway."

"Is it true of what our contact had said? That a caravan carrying grain and supplies is coming here from Gondor?"

"It is," the Leader said. "We will raid them on the road just before the reach any city."

"Éomer King will not be pleased." One of the outlaws said. The Leader made a dismissive gesture.

"The king does not care anymore for his people. It is his fault that we are in this mess. We will take our due share."

Some of the outlaws looked uneasy.

"The friendship of the Gondorian King with our liege-lord is strong." One said. "If we get caught, then we will be executed."

"Then make sure we do not get caught."

"It does not sit well with me." A burly man said. He looked to be a blacksmith. "We may be outlaws but we are also Rohirrim. Our code of honor does not allow this."

"And who will feed our families?" The Leader asked. "Do you wish them to starve this coming winter?"

"Nay," the blacksmith replied reluctantly.

"Start shifting the men to the road then."The Leader said. "We will catch them at unawares. Kill the guards who guard the caravan. This is a matter of survival."

_Wonderful, _Dorián thought grimly. _Legolas is going to love this._

oOo

"Can I ask you something?" Bradford said, picking on the grass.

"Go ahead." Legolas replied.

The elf and boy were on the same meadow they had hunted the day before. Legolas lay back on the ground, his hands cradling his head. Bradford sat by his head, taking out the blades of grass and weaving them together. This time they chose not to hunt, instead the two enjoyed the open meadow.

"How old are you?"

Legolas smiled at the child's curiosity.

"I am old enough to say that you are nothing more than a babe in my eyes."

Chastened, Bradford ducked his head. Legolas glanced at him and then closed his eyes.

"You are not going to keep me, are you?" Bradford asked quietly.

Legolas opened his eyes and regarded the boy. Bradford was looking away from the elf. Legolas sat up and moved his head to look at the boy.

"Nay, I cannot." Legolas replied gently. "That does not mean that I am going to leave you, little one."

"Why not?"

"Bradford, I am an elf." Legolas replied, running a hand over his face as he tried to explain himself. He looked at the boy again and realized with a curious pang that it was a little painful to see Bradford edge away from him.

Legolas placed an arm around the boy and brought him close. "You will find someplace to belong. But it is not with me. I am old, Bradford. A day will come that I will leave these shores. I do not know if it is close or far, but it will come. What then? Do not be like that." Legolas ruffled the boy's hair. "You will find someone better than me."

Bradford smiled up at him, but it was sad. Legolas squeezed the boy's shoulders.

"Do not look so sad! I am here for a while yet. Let us make the most of it. Come! We should head back."

Back in the city, Legolas brought the boy to the stables. Bradford went to the stablemaster for his chores. Legolas went to the Main Hall.

"You seem to have grown a new shadow." Éothain said, grinning as he remembered Legolas' rides with Bradford.

Legolas snorted. "What is he up to?" Legolas asked, jerking his thumb at the Steward who was conversing with Lady Brithwyn.

"He is persuading Lady Brithwyn to allow us to work in the council chamber and break our fast there."

"What makes you think he will win the argument?"

Just then, Faramir kissed the Lady's hand and came back. "She accepts." He told them.

"You are joking." Legolas replied, baffled.

"That silver-tongue of yours is useful after all." Éothain remarked. Faramir smiled.

"Come on. We had better go before the Lady changes her mind."

With the food and drink in the council chamber, the trio retreated to their posts.

Faramir chose a place in a corner and settled down with some papers and a mug of tea and bread. Éothain took the table facing the window and Legolas sat down at the main table with the maps. Some three hours later, Éothain decided to take a break and looked up.

"Look who is back." Éothain said, laughing suddenly as he found a very welcome sight sitting on his open window. Legolas looked up from the maps.

"Silverclaw!" Legolas said in surprise. The mentioned hawk took flight and flew in circles over the men's heads. "It is good to see you again, my friend." Legolas said warmly. Silverclaw perched on the elf's left shoulder and nuzzled against his cheek.

"Any news from the Lonely Mountain?" Legolas asked, reaching with his free arm to the carrier on the hawk's back. Silverclaw crooned in relief once the carrier came off.

"What news?" Éothain asked seriously as he watched Legolas retrieved the letters and missives.

"Let me see."

Legolas read the contents and abruptly got up from his seat, causing it to fall and Silverclaw hoot in alarm.

"Is everything alright?" Éothain asked worriedly.

"Everything is fine. Wonderful, in fact, is Éomer awake at this moment?"

"I think so, but I do not think Lady Brithwyn would allow-"

Legolas did not listen to him as he opened the door and left.

"-would allow it." Éothain ended weakly. Faramir smiled.

"We might as well follow him."

The two men followed the elf at a much slower pace. They reached the king's bedroom where Legolas did not even bother to knock as he opened the door and entered.

Legolas found the king sitting on his bed, his back supported by his pillow. The king was reading a book.

"Can you not knock?" Éomer asked without looking up. He already knew it was Legolas who entered.

"Thorin Stonehelm accepts your request." Legolas replied. Éomer looked up from his book. "He says that he will send Gimli and his father along with a hundred dwarves in a month's time. They will bring the equipment with him. And does your head not hurt reading that?" Legolas asked as an afterthought, pointing at the book. Ironically, it was the very same book that Legolas had unsuccessfully tried to read a day before.

"That book is haunting you two." Éothain said, appearing behind Legolas. "Oh and by the way," The Rider said casually. "You have a guest."

Faramir appeared beside Éothain and smiled broadly. "It is good to see you, brother."

"Faramir! Well-met!"

"Well-met, indeed. Was this the reception you had kept for me?"

"Well, I wasn't expecting you to come here so soon."

"It sounds as if you have little faith in me, brother. I would come to my beloved when I am called."

"She is my sister." Éomer growled.

"She is my wife." Faramir retorted.

"Since when are they in such good terms?" Legolas asked Éothain.

"You do not know? Ah, yes. You had left soon after Éowyn's wedding. Éomer and Faramir developed quite a strong friendship."

"I assume they settled their differences in a bout in the practicing ring?"

"Aye."

"Men!"

"What does that mean?"

"Never mind." Legolas said.

"Come, come!" He heard Faramir say humorously. "You bested men single-handedly, took down to oliphaunts with a single kill, and a singly blow to the head left you bed-ridden."

"How about I crack your head open with a mace and I ask how you feel about it…"

"Peace!" Faramir said, laughing suddenly.

"Éomer, you will have to be ready to receive the dwarves when they come here." Legolas put in.

"Are you serious? They are truly coming?" Éomer asked.

"Nay," Legolas snapped, suddenly annoyed. "I am lying. The letter is a fraud and Gimli declares war for calling him to the Caves where he always wanted to live and explore in."

Éomer threw his pillow at Legolas, who dodged it easily. Realizing that he had thrown his only pillow, he groaned.

"Could you give me my pillow back?"

The pillow smacked Éomer straight on his face.

"Thank you." The king mumbled. "What I want to know is how did you get here, Faramir? I had expected you to receive my letter later."

"If I had been away from the main cities, it would have been so." Faramir said, sitting down on the edge of Éomer's bed. "But I was in Tolfalas at the time. Queen Arwen received the letter in my absence after which she sent a messager from Minas Tirith to Tolfalas. After that I accompanied the supply caravan from Dol Amroth." Faramir gave a rueful smile. "I am afraid I am not very impatient. I took on ahead. I ran into Dorián and here I am."

"And Aragorn let you go just like that?" Éomer asked in disbelief. The Steward was one of the two most powerful and influential men after Aragorn, the second being Imrahil of Dol Amroth. Faramir gave a ghost of a smile.

"I think Arwen told Aragorn exactly what expecting mothers think if their husbands are taken away from them."

Éomer and Legolas laughed.

oOo

_~Legolas, we have a problem.~_

_~What is it?~_

_~I found a group of outlaws. They intend to raid on the caravan coming this way from Dol Amroth. The caravan has the supplies of grain we need for the farming.~_

_~I will notify Éomer and have Élfhelm to send an éored.~_

_~Élfhelm's men are already busy with the extermination of the orcs. They will not reach here in time. Also, these men have contacts. They will be gone before the éored even arrives.~_

_~Which means that the outlaws are not alone; someone with power is helping them.~_

_~That is for you to handle. Tell me what to do with the outlaws.~_

_~Well, I cannot send an éored without alerting the outlaws now, can I?~_

_~Nay, you cannot. You could let me handle it though.~_

_~Absolutely not!~_

_~Legolas, I am quite capable of handling myself.~ _Dorián said patiently. _~I am no stranger to such missions. Besides, I can alert the coming caravan. I recall that you said that Estel will be sending his men to protect the coming caravans.~_

_~Fine, but if you get hurt, I am not the one telling Fion how it all happened.~_

_~The old elf worries too much about us anyway. And the lovable traitor acts as if he does not care at all.~_

_~Just be careful.~_

_~I have always been careful.~ _Dorián replied cheerfully, cutting off the link.

"_You are not." _Legolas mumbled aloud as he sat alone in his bedroom.

Shaking his head, Legolas left his bedroom. He entered the Main Hall and smiled charmingly at Lady Brithwyn, who merely raised an eyebrow in silent amusement.

"I had better find you in bed in an hour's time." Lady Brithwyn called after him.

"Yes, my lady." Legolas replied obediently.

Legolas found Faramir standing outside on the raised platform of the Main Hall, sipping a mug of cider.

"Enjoying the weather?" Legolas joked, gesturing at the clear night skies and the unbearable heat.

"Indeed," Faramir said, smiling.

"You wish to speak to me about something." Faramir noted.

"You read me well," Legolas said, taking the Steward by his shoulder.

"Actually, Faramir, there is this boy who is quite interesting…"

**~S~**

_Author's Note:_

_Well, this update came faster than I had ever expected._

_Now that I started rewriting the chapters, I am starting to find it a little funny that I lost my next half of this story. Looks like you guys do not need to know the story after all. :P_

_Haha, jokes aside, I will get another chapter up in a while. It depends how quickly I remember what came next. The story is long and I had forgotten most of it._

_I thank you guys for the cooperation you guys have shown. I honestly did not feel like writing the entire thing AGAIN. So you guys had given me that push I needed._

_Little Bradford here was pretty cooperative. *ruffles the boy's hair* Don't worry, kiddo, I will find you a place where you will be happy._

_The date of 13 August still stands, by the way. _

_Replies to reviews:_

_KnightGhost10287:_

_Thank you. I am glad you enjoyed the twist. Haha, no prob. It was quite a treat to see you review two chapters at once! :D :D_

_Sandy-wmd:_

_I am glad you enjoyed the way I wrote him into the story. Apperantly, Faramir was not enjoying the fact that I kept him out of the storyline and he bullied me into writing him in sooner than I decided at first. :D_

_Honestly, if people hadn't been so understanding, there were chances that I might have abandoned the story. I was too tired of the error happening again and again. :P_

_But your joke made me laugh. And even helped me to open up Word and start rewriting._

_whydoineedapenname:_

_Answer to your question,_

_Because longbows are heavy and need strength to draw the tense string. That is something an experienced apprentice or archer can do. But Bradford needs to build strength in his arms and back before he can use a longbow. :)_

_I hope that answers the question._

_1monster2: _

_Oh, yes, please! I enjoyed your stories. I am kinda sad that you wrote so little, but oh well. If I can read the book, I would love to! :D :D_

_I do not find it rambly or long. It was actually quite fun to read._

_missteigne:_

_Hey! Nah, I do not mind. I am just glad you are taking the time to review whenever you can. :)_

_brankel1:_

_Thanks! :D_

JayaEmera:

_I am sorry for the inconvenience. Oh, and I am regular but my timings are a little unpredictable. Haha, I am glad you enjoyed it. :D_

_Gimlifan8:_

_Thanks. :)_

_SparkyTAS:_

_I am glad you love this story. :D_

_emi:_

_Most of the people were right about the blade, that it was a friend and not a foe. Haha, yes, Faramir is definitely the one going against Brithwyn. the best part is that he does not have to try hard!_

_I wouldn't call myself jinxed as I would call myself inexperienced. I had no idea that my document would not be able to support so much info. __:D_

_Haha, well, I updated much faster than I had expected at first. Actually, I was more upset by the fact that I couldn't remember most of the story. But it came back bit by bit. :D_

_ilovevollyball:_

_That really is a disgusting acronym. :D :D_

_But your review made my day and really made me laugh harder. I was not in a good mood when I found out about Word. Thank you!_

_You are right; you cannot really have only few favs in LOTR or TH. It is just no possible._

_Yes, Dorian and Fion are definitely my favs too. :P_

_"poor you , poor me"- That certainly set me off laughing like anything! Poor me! I am the one writing the whole thing again. :D :D_

_You know, I can totally imagine Fion getting jealous for choosing Dorian as your fav oc. :D _


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Dorián bent his bow and aimed. He was not aiming for something in particular. He was only checking how much his injured shoulder can take. Dorián released the tension in the bowstring, satisfied that his shoulder will not give him much problem. Just then, he felt a presence press against his mind.

_~Oh, dear.~ _Dorián said wearily.

_~BOOOOOY! You and Legolas will be the death of me!~_

_~I thought Bregon told you to stop worrying about us.~_

_~You got yourself inj- wait, how did you know that Bregon had told me to stop worrying?~_

_~Fion please. You are Fion, the mighty Commander and loyal friend of King Thranduil. It would be a wonder if you did not worry. And somebody has got to tell you to stop worrying about us. Bregon is the only one with the courage to do so.~_

_~Pesky, impudent youngling.~ _

_~How did you know I was injured anyway?~_

_~You should take lessons from Legolas on hiding your mind more securely.~_

_~You know, I just might. What have you been up to?~_

_~We have been building the farmhouses near the farming areas, so that the farmers and their families can live near the farms to make it easier for them to tend to those areas. What of you?~_

_~Oh, the usual. I am trying to save a caravan from being raiding.~_

_~What you are doing is nothing but standing around in miles from nowhere.~_

_~Well, I was not expecting to be assaulted by my former mentor, now, was I?~_

Fion was silent for a moment.

_~Be careful, Dorián. I have seen you too many times wounded. I fear my heart cannot take it if I see it once more.~_

_~I will be careful.~ _Dorián promised seriously. Then he broke off his link.

Dorián looked up at the sky and noted how the sun was slowly rising. Dawn had broken and it was time to move quickly. The outlaws were roughly two hours behind him. He needed to move fast in order to reach the caravan and ready it in time for the outlaws.

Dorián began to run. It was going to be a long day.

oOo

Bradford must have not found it strange when Faramir accompanied him and Legolas in their morning ride.

"He is swift." Faramir observed, watching Bradford run after Arod, who had broken in a canter. The horse neighed in enjoyment as the boy raced after him.

"He is more than just swift. He is a natural when it comes to concealment. He cannot surpass our elven abilities, of course. But it is amazing for a mortal, and child at that."

"He is too old." Faramir said thoughtfully, stroking his beard. "But he can be trained."

"It would be well for him, I believe."

"What is his past? Has he spoken of it?"

"Nay," Legolas replied. "But I know that it is too painful for him to stay here."

The two smiled as they heard Bradford give a joyful cry of childish delight when Arod finally stopped running away from him. Bradford hugged the horse's neck.

"An Ithilien Ranger's life is not an easy one, Legolas. Bradford will have to face constant danger."

"I do not think he is a stranger to danger, Faramir." Legolas replied quietly. "Can you take him in then?"

"Well, each Ithilien Ranger can take one apprentice but no more than one. Our group is very closely knit. We try to keep it that way. However, the War has left many of our posts empty and all of us need to take apprentices in order to train more Rangers. It will be my first time taking in an apprentice," Faramir added wryly. "I do not know how he will take me."

"You will find him surprisingly adaptable."

"Hm, I will speak to Éomer about it. However, if Éomer thinks otherwise, then I cannot change his mind."

"Of course." Legolas said. He looked up at the position of the sun and realized that they had been outside for too long. "Bradford," the elf called. "Come! We are late!"

oOo

Faramir was able to persuade Lady Brithwyn to allow Éomer to go for a 'walk' to the practicing ring.

"You are not going to take him for a fight, are you?" The Lady asked. Faramir respectfully pressed his fist against his chest.

"My lady! I would never!"

Half an hour later, Éomer and Faramir crossed swords in the practicing ring. The Steward moved slowly, knowing that Éomer still felt a little dizzy from the loss of blood. It was only for a while though, and Éomer slowly started to settle into the fight.

"Keep your guard up," Faramir shouted, bearing down on Éomer.

The Steward was not an easy challenge. He easily blocked most of Éomer's blows without staggering underneath the brute force of the King. He moved with ease, his own swift blows were deadly.

"Rest," Faramir said finally. He had wanted to push Éomer but not too much… otherwise Lady Brithwyn would truly be vengeful.

He kept his sword raised until the message sunk into his opponent. Éomer nodded and leaned heavily against his sword once he embedded it into the ground. Faramir did the same as he stood opposite to the King, ignoring the sounds of clashing wooden and metal swords alike.

"Where is Legolas?" Éomer asked.

"The archery range," Faramir replied, jerking his chin to his side.

Éomer looked. The elf was at the archery range. His movements were slow and deliberate. Each arrow hit its target perfectly. Slowly, the elf picked up the pace.

"There was a time when Bradford used to shadow me." Éomer remarked, nodding towards the boy who was watching the elf in open awe.

"Bradford shows quite an interest in longbows. Most unhealthy custom for a Rider," Faramir remarked, smiling. Éomer grunted. The Rohirrim always preferred crossbows or the shorter versions of longbows. Longbows were too difficult to handle when on horse. And longbows required years of training, something the Rohirrim did not give much priority. Their skill lay in riding and swordsmanship.

"I do not think he is meant to be a Rider." Éomer said.

"Actually, that is what I wished to speak to you about." Faramir said, taking out his sword from the ground and leading the king away from the ring. "Legolas has spoken to me about Bradford."

"I will have him know that Bradford is my page, not his." Éomer said stiffly.

"Most importantly, he is your subject." Faramir said, unruffled by his brother-in-law's annoyance. "Legolas only meant well. And I agree with him. The boy himself will never show interest in becoming a Rider. You have seen it yourself. He is leaning towards field craft and archery."

"And what of it?"

"Legolas has asked if it was possible to take the boy to Ithilien and apprentice him. I told him it was quite possible. However, I needed your permission to do so."

"I do not give it."

"Come, come, Éomer! Surely, you do not intend to keep the boy here when he is so obviously miserable of it. I hear that ever since Legolas had taught him bits and pieces of archery, the boy was happier."

"Only a passing fancy!"

Faramir became silent. Then he spoke at length, "Would you have said the same thing for your sister had she been the one in Bradford's place?"

At that, Éomer became quiet. Faramir continued, "You know as well as I that this boy seems to have to many painful memories of Riddermark. Set him free. Let him come to Ithilien and start afresh. And when he is ready, he will return home."

"I work so hard to make this land livable for my people." Éomer said, watching as Legolas called the boy over and handed him his bow. Kneeling down, Legolas pointed at different parts of the bow, apparently teaching the boy of its uses. "It saddens me to see them abandon it because of the memories that come with it."

"He is just a boy, Éomer." Faramir replied. "He will come back. This is the land he was born in and he was raised here. When he will come, I do not know. Maybe months or years, that is for his heart to decide. But he will come. Look at your sister. Éowyn had come back and aided you, even when the memories of Meduseld were too painful for here. Why did she come back? Because she had something to hold on to. Let Bradford find his stronghold. When he returns, he will be fully capable to aid you as a man would. Besides, I doubt he will forget his Rohirric roots. Éowyn will be with me in Ithilien once the babe is born. She will make sure Bradford would not forget his legacy as being part of the Rohirrim."

Éomer watched Bradford smile widely as Legolas showed him his dual knives.

"What of the boy?" Éomer said at last. "Has he no say in this?"

"I will ask him tonight."

"Do so, then. He has my blessing."

As Éomer said it, he suddenly felt light-headed and staggered. Faramir caught his arm.

"You are going back to bed." Faramir said firmly. "I will not carry your giant body if you suddenly faint. You may have given the boy your blessing but the lady up in the Main Hall will give me grief if your head pains you for a longer time than it should."

"Then why did you call me for a fight?"

"Well, I wanted to beat you in some way."

Éomer smiled. If Faramir had not been his brother-in-law, he would have found out exactly how much strength there was in the arm he had placed around the Steward's neck, even in his weakened state.

oOo

That night, Éomer called Bradford to the Main Hall after supper. The people had left, leaving only Éomer, Faramir, Legolas and Élfhelm in the Hall. Éothain had gone for a night patrol. Bradford was surprised and a little intimidated by the sight of so many great and powerful men looming above him.

Faramir was the gentlest and slowly explained to the boy about his skills. Éomer told the boy plainly that he would have a difficult time becoming a Rider. Bradford listened in confusion, obviously not understanding what Éomer was hinting.

"You can join the Ithilien Rangers." Éomer said. "Lord Faramir here will be your mentor. You can live a different life, far from here and whatever pain you felt here."

And that finally helped Bradford understand.

Bradford took a step back from the two great men, lips parted in shock and eyes wide in fear. Legolas frowned; he had not expected such a response. Faramir and Éomer both noticed the boy's reaction. The Steward moved to get up from his seat but even as he did so, the boy turned and fled the Main Hall.

"I do not understand." Faramir murmured. Legolas straightened from where he was kneeling and purposely walked towards the main doors.

"I will speak to him." Legolas said. Éomer got up from his own seat as if to protest but Faramir stopped him by placing a hand on his in-law's shoulder.

"Let him go." Faramir said quietly. "The boy may find his presence more comfortable than either of ours."

oOo

Legolas quickly went down the steps, ignoring the questioning looks of the door wardens. Once he reached the ground, he looked both ways for a possible route the boy may have taken.

There was an old man sitting outside the main stables, whom Legolas had noticed him to be one of those who often chatted and laughed with Bradford.

"He went that way." The old man said in answer of the elf's unspoken question. The man pointed.

"Thank you." Legolas said gratefully, taking the side street.

He followed it until he reached the city wall. Legolas frowned at the forlorn street. What was here that would interest a boy? He wondered. But as he slowly walked on the street, he suddenly became aware of the carved slabs of stone protruding from either side at regular intervals. It was a graveyard.

Legolas searched the graveyard for the boy until he found him sitting at one side. Legolas carefully made his way to him. Bradford's head was resting on his knees. His eyes still shone with unshed tears. Legolas regarded him for a moment before sitting cross-legged beside him. Bradford did not acknowledge him.

"Pappa had a close childhood friend in a village near Aldburg. I used to call him my uncle."

Legolas kept his silence, purposely not looking at the boy. He knew if he did, the boy would not go on.

"It was the end of the year. Uncle called us to come visit. Mamma and Pappa wanted to spend the Yule with him. It was supposed to be a family reunion." Bradford reached down and picked the blades of grass in front of him. "We left with another family. When we got there, the village was in flames. The orcs were killing people everywhere." The tears were dropping now. "Pappa took his sword out, but an orc got him. Mamma wanted me to run but it was- it-"Legolas finally looked at the boy. Quietly, the elf drew him close. Bradford leaned closer. "They aren't even in those graves." The boy sobbed. "The orcs took me and some other children as captives and they-my parents-"

The orcs ate his parents in front of him, Legolas realized in disgust.

Bradford was crying harder now. Legolas pulled the boy closer. Bradford clung to the elf's shirt, feeling Legolas' steady and assuring heartbeat. It was like clinging to a strong wall, steady and unyielding. A wall that will never move or budge, always present, and always supporting.

Legolas did not know how long he held the boy. He just stayed still, murmuring soft words in Elvish that his father often used to comfort him. Slowly, the boy's sobs became more infrequent and Legolas realized the boy was fast asleep.

Legolas gently picked up the boy and slowly made his way back to the Main Hall. He ignored the questioning looks of the people he passed. All of them knew Bradford, but none of them needed to know why Bradford had run off the way he did.

Legolas was a little relieved to see that the Main Hall was empty. It would not have done if Faramir and Éomer had seen the boy now. Legolas made his way to the boy's ward where other orphan boys slept. He walked quietly, not wanting to disturb the children's deep slumber. He gently lowered Bradford on a bed.

When he came outside again, he found Éomer waiting for him. The king raised an eyebrow in silent question.

"He will give his answer in the morning." Legolas said quietly. Not desiring to speak more, he turned away.

For now, the elf simply wanted to mourn for the lives lost in the War.

oOo

Dorián slowed down his pace once he neared the caravan. His legs were capable of covering more distance but he had to admit that he felt relief once he reached the caravan.

The people had stopped for the night. The horses were grazing and the fires were bright. Thankfully, the caravan had not yet entered the Rohirric side of the border. Dorián knew that the outlaws were only seven or eight hours behind him.

Dorián pulled off his hood and neared the sentries guarding the parameter of the camp.

"Who goes there?" One of them exclaimed, bringing up his spear and holding up a lit torch in the other hand.

"I come to meet the leader of the caravan." Dorián said, making sure his face could be seen in the sentry's light.

"An elf," the sentry said in wonder.

"There is not much time." Dorián said impatiently. "Outlaws are gathering to raid this caravan. I must speak to your leader."

"The leader is standing right here." A familiar voice said behind him. Frowning, Dorián turned abruptly.

Two men stood side by side, garbed in Ithilien colors of green and brown. One of them, he recognized instantly as Alfred. The other one who had spoken caught Dorián completely by surprise. A young woman stood beside them, with jet-black hair and blue eyes that regarded him with open curiosity.

"_Well-met, Dorián."_ The speaker said warmly.

"_Well-met indeed, Estel!"_

**~S~**

_Author's Note:_

_Hehe. :D :D _

_To all those who are curious, we are almost 70% done with the story. How many chapters left? No idea. Somewhere around ten or twelve, maybe twenty. You know me, guys. I am kinda unpredictable._

_The reviews may be a little short. I am sorry. I am focusing more on getting these chapters up. I have to study too._

_Replies to reviews:_

_aronoiiel:_

_Thanks. :D _

_You know, you may be right that the error may be a blessing in disguise. For example, Aragorn was not supposed to come at all. But when the error happened, I thought 'what the heck'. :P_

_I am glad you enjoyed the thought of the rohirrim being at ease with the firstborn. I always thought they would have been at ease because of their frequent interactions after the War. :D_

_Fion and Dorian are quickly becoming everyone's fav, of which I am very glad. I spent a lot of time on them. :)_

_cailinbeag:_

_Hey, no prob. I am glad you reviewed, though. I really really appreciate it. I think I already answered your question on how many chapters I intend to go through. xD_

_KnightGhost10287:_

_No need to be sorry! I am enjoying your review! :D :D_

_Tabbyprincess:_

_Thank you! Yes, they are my OCs. I am glad you are enjoying them. :)_

_emi :_

_Don't say that! Otherwise, the next update may be late! :D_

_Oh, and one more thing. You made a mistake of telling me that I leave hints in my replies. :P _

_I am not answering many of your questions. xD_

_Yes, it is quite like a party now, isn't?_

_In fact, I am not answering all of your questions. :P (no offence)_

_ilovevollyball:_

_Haha, I will watch out for Fion. _

_Daring Dorian is quite catchy, is it not! :D _

_hehe, you know I usually am holding back an evil cackle at cliffhangers._

_The pillow part was more or less inspired by my reall life experience. I hadn't been feeling well some days back and my brother was annoying me. I threw a pillow at him and then realized that it was my only one. So yeah, it was something I decided to put in. :P :P_

_Branke1:_

_Thanks! I am glad you enjoyed that part! :D_


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Once Dorián had explained Aragorn everything, he requested for a tent. While he had told Aragorn of the information he had gathered, Dorián had become aware of the wet bandages underneath his shirt.

When he entered the tent given to him, Dorián pulled off his tunic, shirt and the padded guard underneath. He examined his bloodied bandage and started to unbind it.

"_Did you get injured again?"_ Aragorn asked as he appeared out of nowhere, slapping Dorián's hands away from his wounded shoulder.

"_Did Legolas never teach you about something known as modesty?"_

"_He did. And whenever he did, I knew for sure he was hiding a wound or an injury."_

Man and elf chuckled.

"_So tell me, how is the old rascal?"_ Aragorn asked as tended the elf's wound.

"_Old,"_ Dorián told him. Dorián glanced at the man and the two chuckled.

Aragorn was dressed in the Ithilien colors of brown and green. There was no sign of his royal heritage, save perhaps in his bearing, his sword and the ring he wore.

"_Nay, really. How is he?"_

"_He is doing well. He seems to have become one of the Rohirrim."_

"_Did he grow a beard?"_

Dorián laughed heartily and then winced as Aragorn slapped his wounded shoulder irritably.

"_Stop moving!"_

"_Then stop commenting on something that will make me laugh!"_

The King worked on the elf's shoulder in companionable silence.

"_Estel, you seem to have forgotten to introduce me to that woman standing by you."_

"_I did?" _Aragorn asked in surprise. Dorián nodded. _"Well, then. I will introduce you when we go out again."_

When he tied a fresh bandage around Dorián's shoulder, the elf got up and pulled on his shirt.

"_For pity's sake, Dorián! What is the rush?" _Aragorn said, annoyed. _"Sit down!"_

"_In case you have missed what I had said earlier, Estel, your caravan is about to be raided by men who are planning to kill to get to the goods. We have to act immediately."_

Aragorn sighed and reached for his sword that he had taken off from his belt before he started to tend to Dorián.

"_You are right. I had hoped for some peace after the War but it seems we have some shadows to chase away. Come! Let us go outside."_

Dorián followed the King out of the tent. Despite the fact that the night was deep and the moon was high above them, the guards were wide awake and moving about with an alert step. Dorián tilted his head and caught sight of the young woman he had seen when he had arrived. She stood with some other women, holding a conversation in low tones.

"_I had not expected to see women in these supply caravans." _Dorián said as he walked in step with Aragorn.

"_You will see none in the next caravans." _Aragorn replied. _"The lady you saw standing by me was the Lady Lothíriel from Dol Amroth. The women beside her are her ladies-in-waiting and also her friends and advisors."_

Surprised to hear the woman's identity, Dorián turned his head discretely to look at the woman again.

Dorián could not gather much of her looks but he did not that Lothíriel had black hair that was tinted red in the firelight. She had pulled her hair into a low bun, but her dress was unlike he had seen among the Race of Men. She wore a loose shirt with short, wide sleeves that reached the elbows. Her skirts were wide and trailing. After a while, she moved and Dorián realized that she was not wearing skirts; she was wearing trousers that were so wide that they seemed to be skirts.

"_She certainly seems-"_

"_Exotic?"_

"_Aye."_

"_Indeed," _Aragorn said, chuckling. Dorián looked to the front again.

"_We need to take care of those outlaws, Estel."_

"_I thought you said that the outlaws will attack once we enter the Rohirric side of the border."_

"_Estel, please, predators do not wait for their prey to reach safer ground. And the Rohirric land is a safer ground."_

"_True enough," _Aragorn conceded. _"You are actually telling me to keep my guard up."_

Dorián skidded to a halt and stared at the King.

"_Something is wrong with you." _Dorián decided. _"Where is the conscious, alert Ranger I first met when you trekked through our forest?"_

"_I am right here." _Aragorn protested. _"Both in flesh and mind. Actually, I already have a plan."_

"_Do tell me then. Perhaps, I will decide that your mind is truly in the right condition."_

Aragorn only smiled and shook his head.

"Aradhain!" Aragorn called out to one of the Rangers feasting by a campfire. "Call Lady Lothíriel to my tent. And also Alfred, your second-on-command."

"Aye, Sire!"

"_Come,"_ Aragorn addressed Dorián. "_Let us go to my tent."_

They reached their destination. Aragorn pulled away the flap and allowed Dorián to enter first. The elf took in his surroundings as a spy. The place was too close, a cot pushed to one side and parchments were scattered on a makeshift desk.

"_Well, I see no royal changes in your manner of living."_

"_Arwen is telling me to start behaving like one in the way I live but I feel I will lose myself if I so."_

"_Well, wealth and power do have their adverse effects. I support your decision."_

They heard a loud rap on the wood frame of the tent.

"Come in," Aragorn called out. The flap was raised, and Alfred and Lothíriel entered.

"Dorián, I believe you have already met Alfred." Aragorn said, gesturing at the serious-looking Ranger.

"We have indeed." Alfred said.

"And, Dorián, this is Lothíriel from Dol Amroth. She comes from the House of Prince Imrahil, his daughter in fact."

"Well-met, my lady." Dorián commented, bowing low.

"Are you not far from home, Master Elf?" Lothíriel asked. Dorián looked up and got caught with her eyes. Her blue eyes were piercing, assessing but not cold or distant. Faramir was right. Lothíriel was the closest form of Faramir in another person.

"I am indeed, my lady. But where nature is, a wood-elf is always at home."

"Spoken like a true elf." Lothíriel commented.

"I actually brought you here to speak of the outlaws." Aragorn commented. And here, Dorián knew he had to speak to Aragorn. He shifted to Sindarin, a tongue he was more comfortable in.

"_Estel," _Dorián said, his voice growing more serious. _"These men… do not kill them."_

"_Are you serious? They want to kill my men!"_

"_Estel, please do have some compassion."_

"_They will have none for us."_

"_Estel, please-"_

Aragron turned to regard the age-old spy. He had never know Dorián as well as he had known Legolas. But he always had a great deal of respect for the spy. Dorián was well-known among his people and also among the elves of Imladris.

"Why do you think that we should show mercy to these outlaws_?" _Aragorn asked genuinely. He shifted to Westron so that Alfred could understand.

"These men, they seemed with honor…"

At that, Alfred snorted. Aragorn shushed him with a warning look. Dorián glanced at the Ithilien Ranger, then shifted his gaze back to Aragorn.

"They seemed desperate. Spare them if you can."

"Sire," Alfred said. "The risk is too high. Our men are too little in number as it is. With the goods we carry in our caravans-"

"I know the stakes, Alfred." Aragorn interrupted.

"Capture them if you can. You owe Éomer this. These men are his people after all, even if they have been outlawed."

"If they attack my men-"

"Then I will aid you in finishing them off." Dorián replied firmly.

Al l this time, Lothíriel watched the men silently, her eyes flickering this way and that as she listened to their arguments. She did not speak even now, knowing full well that this was the men's matter to discuss.

"Well, then. I know exactly how to trap them." Aragorn said.

Sometime later, Lothíriel was wearing a smug smile, and Alfred was in a good mood. Dorián was looking on in disbelief.

"You know, it is hard to believe that you are the son of Lord Elrond." Dorián told the King. "You think like Legolas and that means illogical reasoning."

"We Ithilien Rangers are well suited for this." Alfred said.

"I do not doubt it, but are you not- ah- in smaller numbers than usually needed?"

"Fifteen Ithilien Rangers are more than enough. Besides," Alfred gave a sardonic smile. "We are not spilling blood here."

Dorián turned to Lothíriel.

"And what about you, my lady? I assume you also know how to fight."

"I do," Lothíriel replied. Her blue eyes did not match Faramir's grey eyes but the likeness was uncanny. Her smile, her way of standing, talking all resembled the Steward. "However," Lothíriel commented dryly. "It would be best if you do not find out at all."

The meaning was quite clear.

"Indeed, I hope not." Dorián commented laughingly. Aragorn straightened.

"Well, then. Let us get this plan underway. We have much to do." He said.

oOo

The moon was waning when the outlaws reached the caravan.

They saw a nondescript sort of a figure standing as a sentry at the parameter of the camp. The outlaws smiled. One sentry could not hold them back.

"I know you are there." The sentry called out. "Come up and fight like a man and not as cowards."

"Surrender and we will not have to fight!" The leader of the outlaws called out.

"An excellent choice." The sentry said smoothly, his Westron was pure that denoted him as a Gondorian. "You surrender and we will not fight."

"You are trapped." The leader shouted, straightening from the grass. The other outlaws followed his example and also rose from the grass. "We have surrounded your caravan. Give us the grain and we will shed no blood."

"Trapped, am I?" Aragorn asked softly. "I am afraid I must disagree. I think it is you who is trapped, between my caravan and my men!"

As soon as he had said it, the Gondorian Soldiers moved in unison as their spears and swords pointed in prepared position. Behind the outlaws, shadows arose from the tall grasses. The outlaws turned in horror to see Ithilien Rangers rising from the dark grasses, the tips of their arrows gleaming silver in the moonlight.

"Take a look!" Aragorn commanded, taking off his hood. Black hair tumbled around his shoulders and his beard was trimmed. Andúril sang in joy as Aragorn unsheathed it from the elven sheath.

"Take a good look!" Aragorn repeated. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. I am the High King, the Ruler of the Kingdom of Gondor and beyond! I have come to offer my aid! Is this the welcome I am to come to? Then see my reply to it!"

The outlaws advanced but stopped as they found themselves caught between the Gondorian Soldiers and the Ithilien Rangers. Swords and spears aimed at their chests and drawn, loaded bows were behind them. The Leader looked up to see the Gondorian King's unsheathed sword gleaming red in the torchlight, his face grim and war-like.

"You have two choices." Aragorn said coldly. "Surrender and live till your sentence, or fight on and die."

The Leader regarded the King standing above him and the Gondorian men surrounding him and his group. He needed the grain but he will not take it by force at the cost of so many lives. The Rohirrim had buried their own people in the ground too many times for comfort.

The Leader's sword fell to the ground with a thud.

"We surrender." He said quietly.

The Gondorians smiled grimly and lowered their own weapons. Aragorn gestured at his men to tie the outlaws up.

"You have your King to answer to." Alfred said roughly as he tightened the Leader's bond.

oOo

Legolas smiled as he watched from the raised platform of the Main Hall Faramir and Bradford ride out from the city. He heard Éomer come up behind him.

"He said yes?" Éomer asked.

"He said yes." Legolas confirmed.

"Why have you not gone with him?"

"Faramir said that the boy might as well get comfortable with him from the first moment."

"You do not sound happy."

Legolas laughed and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

"Perhaps, maybe I am not."

"Fion should really hear of this."

"Don't you dare tell him."

"I will not." Éomer promised, laughing. "You are too good with a bow. Although, I have to admit, you would be a fine uncle for the children of Aragorn, Faramir and I."

"That depends." Legolas said quietly.

"On what?" Éomer asked, puzzled.

"It depends entirely if I am accepted as a brother by all the mentioned men."

Éomer fell silent.

"It will come in time." Éomer said finally. Legolas smiled; it was enough.

"Éomer," Legolas said, growing serious. "I have spoken to Dorián yesterday night."

"What news of the outlaws?"

"They are going to attack the first caravan coming this way."

"We must send an éored immediately then!"

"Éomer, hold yourself." Legolas said, grabbing Éomer's arm to stop the king from leaving so quickly. "Sending men would only make it worse. These outlaws have some contact out here. They will run. Dorián said that he will take care of it."

"What of the contact they have?"

"I have no idea."

"It must be someone we know. Or perhaps, someone with power."

"Well, standing around here will not help."

"Will you let go of my arm?"

"You are not going to run off to call an éored, are you?"

"Let me go first, and then you will know."

Just then they heard Lady Brithwyn's pleasant voice drifting to them from the Main Hall.

"Éomer King, I had better find you in your bed within half an hour. You would not want to overdo yourself, now would you?"

"Nay, milady!" Éomer called out immediately. "I have to go!"

Legolas shook his head and chuckled as Éomer winced.

"Where is Faramir when you need him?" Éomer hissed before he left.

Legolas smiled. Then he felt a presence press against his mind.

_~Dorián!~ _Legolas' voice had great amount of relief in his voice.

_~I am fine.~ _Dorián replied in mild amusement. _~There is someone you would like to meet when I get there!~_

_~Forget that,~ _Legolas said impatiently, dismissing his words. _~What I want to know is what happened to the outlaws? Is the caravan safe?~ _

_~It is safe.~ _Dorián assured him. _~As for the outlaws. We are bringing them to you.~_

_~What?~_

_~Bounded, of course.~_

_~Oh,~ _Legolas replied, feeling a little foolish. _~How long?~_

_~Three days.~_

_~That's long.~_

_~You try coming to Aldburg with a caravan of wagons loaded with grain and other supplies-~_

_~Alright, alright!~ _Legolas said, laughing.

_~Does Lady Éowyn know that her husband is here?~_

_~I hope not. She will run here all the way from Edoras in spite of her condition.~_

Dorián paused. ~_Well, you are right. Let us hope she does not know.~_

_~As much as I enjoy our chatter, I have to go.~_

_~Take care.~_

_~You take care.~ _Legolas retorted before breaking off his link.

oOo

Sometime before noon, Faramir and Bradford rode back to the city. Éomer and Legolas had been sitting in the Main Hall when they heard loud chatter of the boy. Bradford ran in, cheeks rosy and smiling. He went up to Lady Brithwyn and chattered away. Faramir came at a calmer pace, smiling a little as he watched Bradford trail after Brithwyn.

"He seems to have sat well with his new mentor." Éomer said in amusement. "I do not think he misses you at all, Legolas."

Legolas snorted in the most un-elflike way and crossed his arms.

"How did it go?" Éomer asked Faramir as he reached them.

"He is very enthusiastic." Faramir replied wryly. "Perhaps too enthusiastic. However, I do not mind. What news of the caravan?"

"I have to repeat myself again?" Legolas asked wearily as Éomer and Faramir looked at him expectantly. He had already spoken to Élfhelm and Éothain about the matter.

Legolas spoke about everything Dorián had told him about.

"Well, it seems we have nothing to do for the next three days."

"It does seem so."

Unfortunately, Lady Brithwyn had been listening in.

"Oh," the lady said. She whirled about, her braid swishing in the motion and clasped her hands in front of her. She had a smile on her face. Frightening. "I am sure I can use extra pairs of hands somewhere."

Faramir immediately held up his hands, palms outward in a gesture of peace.

"I am afraid I will be too busy with Bradford." Faramir excused himself.

"Indeed," Lady Brithwyn replied. She genuinely had no idea of how Faramir manipulated her. "You two, however," Lady Brithwyn said, turning towards Éomer and Legolas. The two looked on with something akin to fear. "Will do wonderfully in some of the things I have planned."

oOo

Brithwyn certainly made use of them, Legolas thought wryly. He bent and washed his arms from the dirt and sweat. The lady had put them in all sorts of labor, from mucking out the stables to the menial tasks of helping the maids clean the rooms.

"I find it strangely humbling." Lady Brithwyn had said, hers lips quivering in amusement when Legolas glanced at her accusingly.

"Quite humbling," the elf had muttered after her.

They were given heavy tasks too. Wood was to be transported to the farming lands, where the homes of the farmers were to be rebuilt. All hands were needed to get the wood onto the wagons.

At the beginning of the third day, Legolas sent out a link to his friend.

_~Dorián, where are you?~_

_~Why? What has happened?~_

_~Brithwyn is making me do all sorts of labor! I feel as if I am reliving my life as an apprentice!~_

_~Fion used to say that it is strangely humbling.~_

Dorián heard a growl vibrate through the link.

_~Something wrong with your stomach, Legolas?~_

_~Nay, that was my throat!~ _Legolas snapped.

_~Something wrong with your throat, then.~_

This time, it was Legolas' laughter that vibrated the link.

_~Nay, really. Where are you, Dorán?~_

_~Come to the city gate, you will see us.~_

Legolas set down the heavy table he had been carrying above his head with a decisive thud.

"My lord?" A maid who had been leading him asked uncertainly.

"I will be back." Legolas replied curtly.

He made his way down the steps of the Main Hall and ran to the gates. He already found Élfhelm, Éothain and Éomer there. Faramir and Bradford were there also.

"How long before they reach here?" Legolas heard Élfhelm ask.

"Oh, I would say, roughly two more hours." Faramir commented. "In fact, this is a good moment to teach Bradford how to measure distance with time. Bradford, come here…"

"We should do something while we are waiting." Éothain said.

"I am not going back to the Main Hall." Legolas said adamantly. Éomer nodded.

"Fine," Éothain replied, grinning. "Come with me, then. We might as well get the prison nice and cosy for our coming 'guests'."

oOo

"Somebody take a good look on who is leading the caravan and tell me it is not he." Legolas said, covering his eyes and pointing. Éomer looked and said, "It is not he."

"Liar."

"You told me to say it!"

"Never mind." Legolas said, uncovering his eyes. Once he was sure the caravan was close enough to hear him, he shouted, "Go back! Go back! I wanted Gondor's grain, not her king!"

Aragorn peered up in the noontime sun and eyed the shouting figure. The Rohirrim on the city wall were laughing at the shouted jests. It took him a moment to recognize Legolas standing among the Rohirrim. The elf was wearing Rohirric styled clothing, his hair tied in a loose knot and few strands free in the wind. He had an easy smile on his face. but what was more distinctive was the unconscious air of command about him. Legolas truly had changed during the last few months.

"This is some welcome I get!" Aragorn shouted back. This time, the Gondorian soldiers joined the laughter. "Away I will go indeed, and take my grain with me!"

"You cannot!" Éomer shouted from his position beside Legolas, the Rohirrim laughed and cheered after their king. "We will take what is ours by force, if need be!"

"You hear that, men!" Aragorn asked his soldiers in a dramatic flair. "A challenge has been issued. Do we dare accept it?"

"Aceept it, Sire! Accept it!" The shout came back.

"Accepted, it is!" Aragorn shouted back to the men standing on the city wall. "Now that you all had your fun, open the damn doors! It is boiling out here!"

Élfhelm shook his head and gave the word. Soon, tents were set up on the inner side of the gates and the wagons were reeled inside, the grain to be transported to the stores of the Main Hall.

"We would have given better lodging for your men," Éomer apologized as he embraced Aragorn in greeting. "But my people are taking refuge within these walls, and there is not much place to spare."

"We do not mind." Aragorn said firmly. "We are not out of the effects of War yet. Of course it is understandable. However," Aragorn added, pointing at the smiling Steward that stood a few feet behind the Rohirrric King. "I want that man. I will drag him with me back to Minas Tirith if I have to. Shouldn't you be at Tolfalas?"

"I was, and then I got a curt order from my Queen Arwen that I should hasten to Rohan. And since my lady wife was in the mentioned lands, I did not dare refuse." Faramir commented, coming forward to embrace the King.

Aragorn stepped back and glanced at Éomer again. Legolas had come to stand beside him. They had grown stronger in the past few months, Aragorn realized. Each one stood with an unconscious air of command, as if they wore power like a mantle. Each one of them was independent, capable of holding themselves upright, but still lending support to one another when needed. It was good, Aragorn thought wryly. He was tired of the pair's unspoken hostilities.

"You look like a man." Aragorn told Legolas.

"Thank you, you look like a man as well." Legolas replied smoothly. Aragorn burst out laughing.

"I have no way of beating you in an argument." He said fondly as he pulled the elf into an embrace.

"You need a bath." Legolas mumbled in Aragorn's shoulder. "And a change of clothing."

"Those words are too familiar."

"Only the positions are reverse." Legolas said, grinning as he pulled back.

Alfred came up to speak to them.

"What should we do of the prisoners?" He asked, briefly greeting his Steward and Commander.

"Éothain will put them in the prison." Éomer answered.

"Do you not wish to resolve this?" Aragorn asked.

"Of course, I do! But today we celebrate Gondor's coming. Why ruin today because of some outlaws? Come! We feast!"

Legolas followed the men when he felt a hand stop him. turning, he saw Dorián smiling at him.

"_My old friend," _Legolas murmured, embracing him.

"_It is good to see you."_

"_You are injured."_

"_It will heal in time."_

Pulling back, Dorián winked and pressed his presence against Legolas' mind. Legolas raised an eyebrow in question. They rarely ever spoke mind-to-mind when they were in front of each other.

_~As much as I hate (or enjoy) to say it, that thing you were so afraid of is happening.~_

_~What?~_

_~Look behind you.~_

Frowning in confusion, Legolas turned and his eyes fell on Lothíriel.

_~Ai, Elbereth.~ _Legolas breathed.

_~Indeed.~_

_~You do know what this means, do you not?~_

_~What?~_

_~You know what is means.~_

_~I would like to hear it from you nevertheless.~ _Dorián's voice was quivering with amusement.

_~Éomer is going to be a love-struck calf for sure!~_

_~It will be fun to watch, though.~_

_~If he marries her, I will never let him live it down.~_

_~Let us not get ahead of ourselves. He has barely met her.~_

_~That will not change anything much. Remember Arwen's vision?~_

_~Ah, yes. Well, Legolas, I do believe that you have a marvelous streak of evil.~_

_~Ah, my good friend, Dorián. I believe you have one just like mine.~_

Outwardly, the two elves gave each other a conspiring nod.

oOo

That night, Aragorn formally introduced Lothíriel to Éomer.

"Jgkhledk?" Was all that Éomer was able to say.

"Forgive me, my lord." Lothíriel said, her brow furrowing slightly in confusion. She did not notice her liege-lord's twitching lips, nor did she hear her cousin's smirk. "I fear I was unable to understand your speech."

"He was speaking in Rohirric." Faramir spoke up. Lothíriel turned to her cousin, whose face was completely expressionless.

"Rohirric, cousin?"

"Aye, Rohirric." Aragorn said as if to confirm his Steward's words.

Lothíriel smiled hesitantly.

"I am afraid I have no knowledge in Rohirric to understand your words, Your Majesty." Lothíriel said.

Mortified, and with some control on his tongue, Éomer opened his mouth to speak to rectify the misunderstanding before it was too late.

But it was too late.

Faramir leaned forward. "He was saying," Faramir said and leaned to whisper in her ear. The pleasant expression on her face changed to murderous.

"How dare you!" Lothíriel burst out, throwing the drink at Éomer. She straightened and gave an exaggerated curtsy before leaving in poorly hidden fury.

"Faramir!" Aragorn admonished, turning towards the Steward.

"Forgive me," Faramir said in mirth. "I missed my dear cousin's bursts of temper. She is so easy to tease!"

"Wait for our next sparring match," Éomer burst out. "I will catch you then!"

"So you do have a tongue." Éothain told Éomer.

"Jgkhledk?" Legolas mimicked, making everyone laugh.

And that was how the King first met Lothíriel of Dol Amroth.

**~S~**

_Author's Note:_

_Sorry for the late update. I was busy and I was not really happy with this chapter. It was longer but highly inconsistent. So I cut it short. And look where I cut it from. :P_

_Here are a few things that I would like to comment upon. :)_

_If anyone is feeling a little... upset, shall we say, with Lothiriel keeping out of the argument on what to do with outlaws, remember that at Tolkien's time the women did not play a great role in such matter, save perhaps for Eowyn. Also, Lothiriel was born in a warrior family. That does not mean, however, that she knew strategy and tactics or so on. So if anyone if feeling a little feminist, I can only say that Lothiriel doing otherwise would not go with the flow of this story._

_If there is a problem with Lothiriel behaving such at the end of the chapter, well she is not exactly OOC when her personality is not defined in the first place. So *shrugs* I can do pretty much what I want._

_Another thing: "Phoenix of the Air+romance= Not happening" (hehe) . This story is still friendship and drama. So do not expect romance, folks. I needed Lothiriel, that is why she is here, so that her marriage remains canonical and also needed for some other reasons. I am sorry, but I am tired of seeing so many romance stories on ffn. I have nothing against romance. Write if you want, that is not my problem. But personally, I feel that a couple's story is their own, not something for other people's prying eyes._

_You will find what Faramir said to her, though. But please remember this author's own personality. This phoenix loves to make jokes out of innocent, honest, honourable things. :)_

_If you guys read all of this, thanks. Seriously. Not many people do. _

_On with the replies! :D :D_

_P.S. If the replies are short, please forgive me. I have studies to take care of and my main priority for this story is to make sure you guys keep getting chapters. That does not mean I will not reply however. I love reviews..._

_Replies to reviews:_

_Jasper6509:_

_Stroke of luck indeed! Or perhaps there is an author moving about here! :D :P_

_brankel1:_

_Yeah, I feel the same for Bradford. :D _

_Guest:_

_I do not want this story to end too! But unfortunately, I think it is coming to an end. You have the sequel to look forward too, though!_

_Sandy-wmd:_

_Yes, he has. :D_

_KnightGhost10287:_

_Please do not stop commenting, then! I am enjoying your reviews very much. :D :D_

_aronoiiel:_

_See? You hoped the chapter was late, and it is late. :P_

_Just kidding! :D I never realized Fion's words could be so effective. Other reviewers also enjoyed that exchange, when i wrote it, I did not give it much thought, lol._

_emi:_

_You know, I acutally went on google translator to get those translated (Spanish, right?) and it only gave me a buckload of gibberish. :P _

_But I still enjoy your reviews, even if I cannot reply. I kind of agree with me. It is hard for me to imagine Legolas in Gondor but ah, well. We will see how it goes in the sequel._

_Oh my god... I had no idea it resembled Star Wars. I was only thinking on what was the best age for apprentices and the like. You know, now whenever I will see Yoda, I will think about Faramir. :P_

_Bregon certainly is multi-skilled, indeed! :D Holding Fion back is quite a feat, no?_

_Legolas is quite influential, taking Faramir like that. :P_

_Ilovevollyball:_

_Good, good. Hand them over now. I have been dying for some coffee. :P_

_P.U.S? Really? :P For some reason, that always makes me laugh._

_So, I gather Fion's personality is perfectly shown? :D_

_I know you guys were not expecting Estel. That man truly cannot stay out of the limelight for long *shakes head*._

_I have not much in store for them, I am afraid. And no, I am not telling you more. :D_

_That would ruin everything. ;)_


	30. Announcement

**_Announcement for readers 16 and above. Please respect this author's wishes:_**

**_You have been warned._**

_Tolkien based his work "Lord of the Rings" on the World War that he himself had taken a part in. _

_When he was asked who the orcs represented, Tolkien simply replied "We are all orcs in war."_

_This means that he held no one in accusation but merely accepted the fact that both parties are equal when it comes to the horrors of war._

_Lord of the Rings showed the bitterness of mortality along with the hopelessness and the loss of lives... and also glory if there is any to be sought. We see in his books the stress he had placed on the darker side of war. _

_We all know that Faramir had contemplated on a fallen man of Haradrim, who he was, where he came from and whether he had even been willing to join the war. Tolkien had said that of all the characters, Faramir was the closest to him in personality._

_And I take this moment to remember the families cruelly torn apart in the war-struck areas of Middle East. We are so far from the mentioned areas that we feel no fear, but imagine the fear of a mother for her lost child, the bitterness of a father after watching his son die in front of him, the agony of spouses. For one moment, just forget which religion they belong to, their race, their language. Just look at them as humans and share their pain, just once. _

_I ask only to keep our hearts soft enough to feel their grief and honour them for bearing a burden that no human... NO human should have to bear, regardless of who he/she was._

_The story of **Bradford **was a reminder of what orphans have to face. In real life, such children roam the streets of these war-struck areas and try to survive, but do not always succeed. Imagine the fear and insecurity of nine-year-old in a ruined neighborhood. _

_Just one moment to remember the lost..._

**_I ask to either speak good or keep silence. If anyone cannot bring themselves to remember for the moment, I will not blame them. But please, do the honour to not commenting any hated remarks. Your respect for this note is the respect you earn from me._**

**_Story will continue as always. And I thank you for reading._**


	31. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

In the morning, Legolas went down to the stables to visit Arod.

"_How are we doing today?" _Legolas asked softly as he entered Arod's stall. Murmuring an apology, he set to work.

He had glanced up from Arod to see two big eyes staring at him from top of the door of the stall.

"Does Faramir know that you are here?" Legolas asked, going back to grooming his horse.

"I came here after taking his permission." Bradford protested.

Legolas did not reply but continued to groom his horse.

"Master Elf-"

"My name is Legolas."

Bradford considered calling the greatest warrior and one of the famous Ninth Walkers by his name, and shuddered.

"Sir," the boy said. "Are you going for a ride?"

Legolas' lips twitched in amusement.

"Well, yes. I am considering the idea for a ride. It is a pleasant day. it is not particularly hot." Legolas finally turned and took in the depressing look on Bradford's face. Legolas reminded himself that the boy does not know when the elf was pulling his leg.

"I do not suppose you would like to accompany me?" Legolas asked sardonically, already expecting the answer.

"Of course!" Bradford said enthusiastically, opening the gate and coming in.

"What did Faramir give permission for exactly?"

"He said if you were willing of taking me for a ride, then he is not going to stop me to go with you."

Legolas shook his head as he tightened the girth of the saddle.

"Come on, then." Legolas said, smiling as he watched the boy come up expectantly. "The faster we move, the longer we will have in the meadow."

oOo

"There is a storm coming." Bradford said, looking up at the approaching clouds.

"And it will probably rain somewhere else." Legolas said dismissively.

"Nay," the boy answered. "It is coming here. The wind is coming towards us. See?"

"I do not." Legolas replied dryly. "Where I come from, there is no reason for us to worry about rain and heat. It is cold or cool throughout the year."

Bradford smiled and laid flat on his back. Legolas shook his head and did the same. Arod grazed nearby.

"How do you find Faramir?" Legolas asked, looking up at the morning sun shining down on them.

"He is fine." Bradford replied after a pause. "He is very serious, though."

"You just need to know him more." Legolas replied soothingly.

Bradford was quiet after that. Then he fidgeted. Then he fidgeted more. Legolas started to have feeling that he had forgotten. When the Elrohir and Elladan were little, they fidgeted the same way when they had something in their mind and had wanted to ask for a long time…

"Can I ask you something?" Bradford said abruptly. Legolas gave a private sardonic smile. His instincts were correct then.

"Aye," Legolas answered.

Bradford fidgeted some more. Legolas watched the birds fly above him patiently.

"Never mind," Bradford mumbled finally. "It was foolish anyway."

"You would not know it is foolish until you ask for it." Legolas replied reasonably. Inwardly, he felt as if he taken back to the time when Elrond's offspring were elflings!

"Am I a burden to you?"

The question was so surprising and so absurd that Legolas immediately sat straight up. Bradford mistook the gesture and shrank back.

"What makes you think that?" Legolas asked, forgetting his eloquence in words and adopting the more Rohirric way of speech.

"Well, you only started to take me in the beginning of the rides and it seemed like you were enjoying them and then after Lord Faramir came-"

"Faramir," Legolas corrected firmly. That boy certainly needs to drop the titles.

"Then he came and Éomer King gave me the choice- not that I do not mind- it is fun but still- what I mean is that it came to me as-"

"You are rambling." Legolas commented, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder to stop him. "Bradford, look at me. I am not a mentor to anyone. I did that with two elves and now there are trysting off to unknown lands and told me not to tell their families and friends. I am simply not the teacher one can expect me to be. You will learn better from your own kind."

"So does that mean we will not have our morning rides?"

"That means nothing of the sort." Legolas found himself saying firmly. "The rides are still there and you are very much welcome to come with me."

Legolas stiffened in surprise as Bradford suddenly hugged him.

"Thank you." He said, voice muffled against his shirt. Awkwardly, Legolas patted the boy's shoulder.

It was strange, but Legolas actually smiled as he hugged the boy back.

oOo

When he returned to the city, he left Bradford to go about the chores Faramir had told him to do after he came from the ride. Legolas, on the other hand, went back to the Main Hall.

He did not find his friends in the Hall, so he left for the West Wing and made his way to Éomer's room. As soon as he opened it, he found that Éothain, Faramir and Aragorn were having an interesting conversation.

"Jgkhledk?" Faramir asked.

"Jgkhledk." Éothain replied.

"Jgkhledk!" Aragorn exclaimed.

"Nay," Legolas said laughing as he closed the door behind him and settled on a nearby chair. "You are supposed to make the 'j' sound longer. Éomer made it longer."

"Oh," Aragorn said, frowning in concentration. "Jgkhledk? Like that?"

"Precisely!"

The whole time, Éomer was glowering at one mischief maker to another. It would have been fearsome if Éothain, Faramir, Aragorn and Legolas did not know the man so well. The look did not work at all.

They still laughed on endlessly.

Dorián was sitting at the edge of the table, one foot against the leg of the table for support and the other bent with his hands wrapped over his knee.

"You are not going to let them get away with it, are you?" Dorián asked the Rohirric king.

Éomer glared at the laughing men and the elf. Then he looked at Dorián, who immediately raised his hands in peace. "Do not look at me," the spy said, grinning. "I have absolutely no hand in this."

Éomer sighed and said to Faramir, "What did you say to her? I deserve to know what lies you have told her."

"I said that you were saying her beauty is like that of Lady Arwen."

"And that is an insult… how?" Éomer asked in confusion.

"Éomer, it is a good thing you have not truly said that to her!" Faramir said. " Ever since our lady queen has come to Gondor, the men of the court seem to think it a high honor to compliment any lady as thus. What they did not realize was that my cousin is quite different when it comes to this. She has shown her dislike for such a comparison most….strongly."

"Judging from her reaction last night, I do not doubt it." Éomer said dryly.

"How can someone so excitable- I mean no offense, Faramir- can be so good at administration?" Legolas asked Faramir.

"Do not underestimate her! She is so good at bargaining that by the time she is done with you, you will be most happy with the low prices she has set and even consider it an honor to have what little she has set. In everything else, I am afraid she is still very young. Twenty-one is still a young age. Do not look at me so, Éomer! Think of it this way; you will enjoy it when she apologizes."

"Oh, I will make sure I enjoy it. But first, let us go to the practicing fields to 'enjoy ourselves'." Éomer said, raising an eyebrow to make sure his meaning was clear.

"Oh," Éothain said nervously. "I seem to remember that I had something to do of utmost importance-"

"And that was to cross swords with me." Éomer finished firmly. "All of you are coming. None of you are going to give any excuses."

"Of course," Aragorn mumbled.

Faramir, however, tried one last thing.

"Éomer, we have to discuss the fate of the outlaws-"

"Oh, we will have plenty of time for that one."

Faramir glanced at Aragorn and shrugged. "I tried."

"Ah, well." Aragorn said resignedly.

oOo

"I wonder if it will hurt," Aragorn said as he took his place at the archery range. Legolas and Faramir stood on either side. The three raised their bows, aimed and shot.

"What will hurt?" Legolas asked, placing another arrow on the bowstring.

"Fighting Éomer," Aragorn replied. The three raised their bows in unison and shot.

Legolas turned to look over at the practicing ring. Éothain was fighting Éomer at the moment. The King was using all force behind his blows, making Éothain stagger.

Keeping the grin successfully off his face, Legolas turned back towards the target.

"I do not think it will hurt that much." Legolas said nonchalantly.

Aragorn eyed his shots critically and adjusted his stance.

"So tell me," Legolas said. "How did you get out of the clutches of your Gondorian advisors, Aragorn?"

"Arwen told me it will do me and Éomer both good if I went with the first supply caravan."

"Oh, I know Arwen is behind all of it." Legolas said as the three of them trudged up to the targets to gather their arrows. "What I want to know is how?"

"I went to Dol Amroth to see if the caravans were on schedule. I found the messenger heading to Tolfalas to call Faramir. I stayed with Lothíriel to oversee the caravans." They went back to their positions and took their stances. Aragorn continued, "Imrahil had been desirous to visit Minas Tirith to visit Arwen as a form of respect and well, let us say I found a perfect moment. He left while I was still in Dol Amroth. Faramir and I were on the same caravan but this Steward here-"

"It was your fault for not giving me the permission to leave, so I left without one." Faramir interrupted smoothly.

"You obviously left without one and then ran into trouble!"

"I do not think Master Dorián will enjoy it if you call him 'trouble'." Faramir replied, loosening his bowstring and letting the arrow fly.

"Speaking of Dorián, where is he?" Aragorn asked, turning to look at the practicing fields. He grimaced when he saw Éomer bodily throw Éothain to the ground. "He is doing his number, is he not?"

"Aye, he is." Legolas said, glancing over his shoulder at the wrestling pair. "Dorián left with the first patrol he could find after Éomer made his announcement."

"Coward," Aragorn said, sniffing as he turned back to his target. "Let us move back a few paces, shall we?"

They moved back and brought up their bows again.

"So tell me, Legolas, did your father not give you a limit of time for your wanderings?"

"He did." Legolas said, picking up the pace as he shot one arrow after another. Both Faramir and Aragorn tried not to gape at the speed and accuracy of the elf. Legolas was not even stopping to regard his shots. He did not even notice the men's reactions. "He said that I should return to him when the seasons change. He did not specify when."

"You know, you really should stop finding loop-holes in words." Aragorn remarked, setting the tip of his bow to the ground.

At the moment, Éomer appeared.

"Your turn, Crookshanks," Éomer said, grabbing Aragorn by his collar.

"Longshanks," Aragorn corrected, starting to walk with Éomer.

Éomer looked at Aragorn up and down.

"By the time I am done with you, your shanks will be crooked." Éomer promised. Aragorn paled slightly but tried to keep his balance as the burly king dragged him along.

"So," Legolas said as if nothing had happened. The elf returned to his target. "Tell me, I did not expect you to be so-"

"Easy to talk to? More soldier than noble?" Faramir asked.

"Aye," Legolas replied bluntly.

Faramir laughed and gestured that they should pick their arrows. The two trudged up to the targets and pulled their arrows free.

"I am afraid I am more of a soldier than a noble." Faramir confessed. "It was how I was brought up, I think. I had not spent so much time… at home." The Steward tilted his head as if in thought. Truth be told, the reason why Faramir did not spend much time at home was because he would have had to deal with his father. He usually kept his visits at the time when he knew Boromir was around, who acted as a buffer between the ever-dueling father and son. "Military life does not call for much protocol, especially-"

"Especially if you are a Ranger." Legolas finished, understanding. The two smiled.

"So tell me," Faramir asked once they returned to their positions and moved a few more paces back from their targets. "How had you become a Ranger? I was told that King Thranduil was a Warrior."

Legolas glanced at Faramir before raising his bow. The Steward was doing the same, and modifying his stance and bow angle to match with the wind.

"You are well-versed in my people's ways if you know how our army works." Legolas said at last.

"Soldier or Ranger I may be, but I think I am still a scholar at heart." Faramir replied.

"Good choice of words." Legolas remarked. "My father and grandfather were both Warriors. However, I never really took much of a liking for swords and glory of a single combat. My former mentor, Fion was the one who took me in as an apprentice. He said that it would help tame the wildness in me. Unfortunately, it did nothing of the sort."

Faramir chuckled. At that moment, they heard a loud gasp from the Riders at the practicing ring. Legolas and Faramir turned just in time to see Aragorn hit the ground, his sword falling beside him. Éomer embedded his blade into the ground, smiling smugly.

"Your turn," Éomer said, coming back and grabbing Faramir's collar.

"Thank you," Faramir said, freeing himself. "I would rather walk."

"No, I would rather drag you." Éomer replied.

"Go easy," Faramir said dryly. His voice was fading as he went further and further from Legolas. "You wouldn't want to hurt the father of your nephew or niece?"

"Quite the contrary, dear friend." Éomer replied.

"Éomer," Legolas called. "You would not want to fight me, would you?"

"Do not bet on it." Éomer called out, readying his blade and coming in a guard position.

Legolas sighed and turned back to his target. Judging the speed of the wind and the target's distance, he aimed and let his arrow fly again. He tried not to think what the gasp of the Riders behind him meant. But he probably will have to practice his knives again.

oOo

Lady Brithwyn let out a loud scream, the laundry basket she had been holding in her hands falling to the floor. Clothes streamed about, forgotten, as she stared on in horror.

Standing in front of her were Éomer, Éothain, Legolas, Aragorn and Faramir. They were all sporting bruises everywhere, though Legolas was the only one who seemed to only have a light sprinkling of dust on his cloths. There was a small bruise on the side of his face which was disappearing quickly. The other men, however, were not so fortunate. Aragorn was limping as if he had a stiff leg. Faramir had his arms crossed and eyes closed in a posture of serenity, but his lip was split and one shoulder twitched as if in pain. Éothain looked the worst, with a black eye and small bruises that could quickly become a problem. Éomer was the only one with a wide, satisfied grin on his face, despite the fact that he looked no better than the other men.

"What happened?" The lady asked, trying hard to regain her lost composure.

The men and the elf immediately pointed at Éomer.

"It was his fault." They chorused and suddenly milled about her. Éomer's smile slowly faded as he watched his victims complain to the lady of the household.

"He had absolute disregard-"

"I only came yesterday and he launched at me like anything-"

"I was not much injured but still, my lady, that is absolutely no way to-"

"Fight as if he is wild-"

"Absolutely-"

"Wild-"

"No regard!"

"Imagine, my lady! I am the King of Gondor!"

"My wife is with child and I have to go to her like this-"

"I am betrothed!"

"I helped him with his kingdom!"

Lady Brithwyn held up a hand to stem their words.

"Ladies!" She called the maids in her usual calm and serene voice. "Look after their wounds, would you? And prepare hot baths in their respective rooms. They will need it before the joints and muscles go stiff."

Then Lady Brithwyn made her way towards Éomer. The men and Legolas parted to give her space. She clasped her hands before her, her wide sleeves trailing behind her.

"As for you," Lady Brithwyn softly, fixing her eyes at her King. Éomer gulped. "You and I need to 'talk'."

Behind her, Aragorn bit his lip to stop his smile, Éothain was openly chuckling, Legolas was grinning and Faramir was smiling triumphantly.

"Yes, my lady." Éomer mumbled.

oOo

In the evening, Éomer came to the Main Hall after listening to a strong lecture from Lady Brithwyn.

"Did you enjoy the talk with Lady Brithwyn?" Éothain asked, grinning as he took his seat.

Éomer grunted and leaned back on his chair. Aragorn and Faramir also came to sit beside him. Legolas joined them from another place. All of them were well-tended to, hair still damp from their baths and wearing clean clothes.

"Something wrong with your tongue?" Aragorn asked.

"One more word and I will-"

"Lady Brithwyn! Éomer King is threatening me!"

"Your majesty, please. Do not threaten His Majesty."

Éomer sank in his chair. Just then, Élfhelm took the last empty seat on the raised platform of the Main Hall.

"I see you all are taking full advantage of my wife's fearsome skills." The Third Marshal said, crossing his legs and lacing his fingers on his raised knee.

"It is quite entertaining." Aragorn told him.

"And a trustworthy tactic." Éothain added, leaning back in his chair. "Something wrong, Éomer? You seem sulky."

Éomer only replied in a low growl. Then he raised his voice and called, "Bring in the prisoners!"

The people in the Hall hushed as the city guards brought in the outlaws. Their weapons were stripped from them, and they were chains on their hands and feet that linked one outlaw from the other. They kept their heads lowered as they shuffled towards their sovereign. It was a shame, Legolas thought inwardly. These men were of Rohirric blood. The Rohirrim treasured their sense of honor and their code of duty to their kingdom. It was strange and a little sad to see their own people sentenced for their crimes.

Éomer spoke in Rohirric, "What were these men's crimes?"

Élfhelm replied, giving the details of the outlaws' doing. The prisoners still kept their heads lowered, as if in shame.

Éomer listened with a tilted head. And then he regarded the men before him before glancing towards Faramir. The Steward was watching them intently.

"Look up," Faramir commanded, his quiet voice holding a great deal of authority. The prisoners did so, allowing their eyes to meet the Steward's grey ones. Whatever Faramir saw, it must have been touching for his face softened fractionally.

"You have come a long way." The Steward murmured thoughtfully, tugging on his beard.

"Tell me why?" Éomer spoke in Rohirric again, turning towards the outlaws. "Why have you stooped so low to do what you did?"

The leader came forward and spoke in haltering words of Rohirric. His accent was too thick for Legolas, Faramir and Aragorn to comprehend. Élfhelm, Éomer and Éothain leaned forward in attention.

The leader spoke, using his hands to gesture in agitation. His tone was passionate, and pleading. Slowly, his pitch rose and he spoke more quickly and fluently.

To the surprise of Legolas, Aragorn and Faramir, the man started to weep.

Behind him the other outlaws were also crying. Whatever the leader spoke of, it was from his heart.

"What do you discern, Faramir?" Aragorn murmured to his Steward.

"Pain and grief," he replied. "They have suffered much, that much I can tell. What were their hardships, I do not know."

Curious, Legolas pressed his presence against the leader's mind.

It was a trick he had learnt from his father. Mind-speech was something his father was exceedingly good at, but with it Thranduil had also taught his son when to use it and when not to.

Images flickered in his mind, memories of the leader following one after another. He saw pain and grief the most. A death of a woman, starvation of his village, the fading hope that their new king will come to their aid, crushed until there was nothing more than bitterness and betrayal. And then there was the hint of desperation.

The leader of the outlaws shook his finger at Éomer in blunt accusation. His anger was obvious, his hurt even more so. Éomer lowered his eyes.

The people in the Main Hall listened in silence as the leader poured out his rage and hurt, until nothing was left but sad man standing in front of his king.

"Free them," Éomer called out, his voice echoing in the Main Hall. "I forgive them."

Éothain looked at him in surprise.

"But we must hand out the punishment. Éomer-"

"Am I not your king?" Éomer asked in return.

"I-" Éothain said, then faltered. "Aye, Sire."

Élfhelm leaned forward. "Are you sure of this?"

"I am. I see now what my people have suffered. Free them, I say!"

When the guards unlocked the chains, they fell with a clang. The outlaws looked up in disbelief and surprise.

"A chance to redeem yourselves," Éomer said in his native tongue. "And earn back your honor. We ride to distribute the grain to the farming lands. Come with us to help and cause no mischief, and you are spared from what you did. I do not blame you, for you acted out of despair. But you will do one more thing." Éomer leaned forward, letting his face come in full view of the light from the fire in the hearth. He was deathly serious, and he was letting the outlaws know it. "Give me the name of your contact here in Aldburg."

The leader hesitated and then bowed his head. Whether in shame or in respect for the king, nobody knew.

"Lord Bede." The leader said at last. Éomer leaned back.

"I think," Éomer said so quietly that others needed to lean forward to hear him. "We should distribute the grain before we have more lawlessness in our hands."

"A punishment here will stop it immediately." Éothain hissed, none too pleased with Éomer's mercy.

But the king looked at his friend in something akin to sorrow.

"Their hardships were a punishment enough, Éothain. They were enough."

**~S~**

_Author's Note:_

_So, we see that Eomer is taking on his role as a king._

_*glances at the part about the practising fields*_

_...or not._

_This idea was inspired about the time when Eomer was the Third Marshal. He had probably seen his people suffer in the places he protected that allowed him to show some mercy but with a condition as was fair. (Sorry, just got up from studies, and it is too soon too make a decent author's note)_

**_The Hunt has been posted, you guys._**

_..._

_I forgot what else I was supposed to say. :P_

_Replies to reviews: (Excluding the reviews on the announcement)_

_quaff:_

_Haha, I do :not mind. I am glad you were enjoying it so much that you did not take the time to review. That is saying something too. ;)_

_Eldariel:_

_Haha, it must have been some treat. :D_

_Really, I never knew that most fics have that kind of storyline. I never really read much fics, I am afraid. Ah, well. Too late to change that now. ;)_

_"you can get the ranger out of the wild but you can't get the wild out of the ranger." You made my day with that remark! :D :D_

_Jasper6509:_

_Haha, the perfect duo indeed!_

_Ilovevollyball:_

_P.U.S. really? :P_

_You know, you really should stop giving me coffee. I am already sleepless as it is! :D_

_brankel1:_

_haha, thanks._

_1monster2:_

_I read that part again, and I realized that you were probably led to believe that. It was too ambiguous on who the speaker us. So i do not blame you if you thought it was Lothiriel. By the way, what happened to that book?_

_emi:_

_-Haha, Legolas and beard do not much for some reason. At least, I cannot imagine him with one!_

_-I didn't understand what you meant about the modesty part. :)_

_-Well, I probably pick Faramir. I have always been curious about sneaking about and doing the Ranger 'stuff'._

_-I meant "I kind of agree with you." Sorry, I was half-asleep when I wrote that. :P_

_- Oh, so that was what the words meant! Haha, thanks! :D_

_I do not mind an interactive review. And do not keep it a short one, please. :D :D_

_KnightGhost10287:_

_Haha, no prob. I am glad you enjoyed it. :D_

_Guest:_

_Sorry, for the lateness of this chapter. I was caught up. :)_


	32. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Lord Bede was as disgusting and annoying as one of the wealthy merchants Legolas and Dorián had to deal with in Lake-Town.

Wearing thick robes lined with thick furs and many rings on his fat, pudgy fingers, Legolas and Dorián both can guess how well off the man had been during the war. If the elves were not impressed, Éothain, Élfhelm and Éomer were less so. Aragorn and Faramir sat there also, looking slightly disgusted at the man's appearance.

Dorián, who was standing beside Legolas, leaned slightly and whispered in Legolas' ear.

"_This reminds me of the time-"_

"_When we had the case of the fat merchant? I was thinking about it as well."_

Dorián chuckled, and then nodded towards Silverclaw. The hawk was perched on Legolas' shoulder and was crooning as she nuzzled against the elf.

"_Why is she in a good mood?"_

"_My father's love, obviously…" _Legolas said, reaching up to stroke her head.

"_It will only last for a while." _Dorián said. The two chuckled and went back to the task at hand.

Élfhelm told the noble of his crimes in Éomer's place, who looked regal and powerful as he sat on his throne. Lord Bede sniveled and begged… or rather groveled at Éomer's feet. The horror on the noble's face told everyone in the room that he had not expected the King to pass out punishments.

After giving a hard look, Éomer finally spoke and passed out the same judgment as he did for the outlaws; a chance for redemption.

"Make sure you use it wisely." Élfhelm said coldly. "If for some reason, you take to crime, punishment will come swiftly and surely."

Lord Bede's small eyes flashed in anger and retaliation. At that moment, Lady Brithwyn had entered the Main Hall, unaware of what was going on. Lord Bede spat an insult in Rohirric towards her direction.

It led to chaos, leaving Lady Brithwyn utterly bewildered. Legolas touched Silverclaw's head lightly.

"_Silverclaw, attack." _Legolas said softly.

The crooning, seemingly harmless hawk turned into a lethal bird of play. Her feathers puffed up and she slowly widened her wings and gave a low screech.

"_Legolas!" _Dorián said in alarm as Silverclaw launched herself on the fat noble.

"_I think I am going to enjoy this." _Legolas said, grinning. To see Silverclaw attack someone other than him was… refreshing.

"_Legolas! Call her off!" _Dorián said, aghast and too astonished to be amused.

The men on the raised platforms were trying hard not to smile. Élfhelm had climbed down and gently escorted his wife out of the Hall, grinning all the while.

"_Legolas!" _Dorián said again, this time sounding horrified.

"_Wait a moment, let her just get that fleshy bit."_

"_Legolas!"_

"_Alright, alright." _Legolas relented. He whistled to the hawk. _"Come, Silverclaw. Leave him be. No, you cannot take out his… never mind. Stop asking me. You are only tempting me!"_

Silverclaw landed on Legolas' awaiting shoulder, a strip of fur clamped firmly in her beak. She gave a satisfied, muffled hoot and puffed up her chest in pride.

"That was a warning," Éomer said to the ragged noble. "Do not test us again."

The noble, chastened, bowed and apologized over and over before fleeing from the Hall.

"_Good work, girl." _Legolas said, nuzzling the hawk.

"_How can you-" _Dorián sputtered.

"_Stop acting so righteous, Dorián. Remember what __you__ did to that merchant?"_

At that, Dorián laughed. The men came down from the raised platform and gathered around the elves.

"It is a good thing she came." Éomer said, nodding towards the hawk. "Else, I would have dealt with him my way."

"Females look after other females." Faramir remarked.

And at that, Silverclaw gave out a loud hoot of agreement.

oOo

Legolas felt a presence press against his mind.

_~I swear I did not do anything and we have no troubles here.~ _Legolas said immediately, knowing full well who it was. He heard Fion chuckle through the link.

_~Am I getting predictable?~_

_~You were always predictable. And why are you in such a good mood?~ _Legolas asked, when Fion chuckled once more.

_~Is there a problem of me being in a good mood?~_

_~The world has gone insane if you have, Fion. First, Silverclaw was in a good mood, and then you. the next awkward thing to happen is to see Faramir dance a jig!~_

_~Faramir… Éowyn's husband, am I correct?~_

_~Indeed.~_

_~He is here?~_

_~Aye.~_

_~Does Éowyn know?~_

_~To tell her would be disastrous. We leave within a week and return to Edoras. Where are you?~ _

_~Back at Helm's Deep. Our work is almost finished. Nimon had taken four elves with him for a last check.~_

_~So that is the reason of your good mood. When can you come back to Edoras?~_

_~Miss me, boy?~_

_~Out of the question.~_

_~It will take us a week as well.~_

_~What! Why?~_

_~We have to help where we can, remember?~_

_~Ah, yes.~_

_~What other news?~_

_~Alfred's here, along with the Rangers we had travelled.~_

_~Ah, I see.~_

_~Lady Lothíriel's here, as well.~_

_~How went it?~_

_~Entertaining.~_

_~I look forward to meeting her then.~_

_~Anything else I should know about.~_

_~Is Erkenbrand always so-~_

_~Boisterous? Rowdy?~_

_~Aye.~_

_~Aye, he is.~_

_~I see. Well, one cannot change his personality, I suppose.~_

_~Can we speak later? I have some tasks that need to be done.~_

_~Very well, then.~_

Legolas waited for a while.

_~Are you not going to tell me to stay out of trouble?~ _He asked finally.

_~I will only be wasting my breath.~ _Fion replied curtly, and then cut off his link.

Legolas laughed.

oOo

He had gone for a stroll towards the practicing fields without any attention of taking part in either the archery or combat. That was when he found the Ithilien Rangers playing with their bows at the archery range. Faramir was there also, and so was Bradford.

As he came closer, he found Alfred kneeling beside the boy.

"What is Alfred doing?" Legolas asked, coming to stand beside Faramir.

"He is teaching him how to use those." Faramir said, nodding at the heavy-looking balls in his second-in-command's hands.

"What are they?"

"They are designed to strengthen your wrists. Bradford is not the first small boy in our order. We use swords and he needs the strength to wield one. Once he has developed enough muscle, we will teach him how to use a proper blade."

"Alfred will be teaching him?" Legolas asked. Faramir shook his head.

"Only the basic exercises. I will take over most of the teaching. Alfred is merely guiding him."

Legolas watched in silence and in interest as Bradford handled the two balls in both hands as Alfred told him.

"He has been having nightmares." Faramir said quietly, watching Alfred guide the boy.

"How do you know?" Legolas murmured back.

"Lady Brithwyn told me. She said if I am taking him with me to Ithilien, then I might as well know everything about him."

"I see."

Faramir leaned back on the fence.

"From what she tells me, Bradford is relives the moments of his parents' deaths and the consequences." Faramir said.

Legolas did not reply. He watched Bradford adjust handle the heavy balls.

"It will be a while before he forgets the horror." Legolas said at last.

Faramir sighed and crossed his arms.

"I do not think anyone will forget." He said before asking, "Has it been any easier? You have lived longer; no doubt you have seen more than we have."

Legolas closed his eyes, his memories taking him back the battlefields that are now only legendary in the realms of Men. He still could hear the screams of pain and terror, smell the stench of death and…

Bradford's laughter cut into his thoughts. Legolas' eyes opened.

"Forgive me," Faramir said, who had been watching Legolas' face intently. "I had not meant to cause you grief."

"No one forgets." Legolas said. "No one ever will."

Faramir and Legolas watched the rest of Bradford's exercise in silence.

oOo

After they returned from the practicing fields, Legolas found himself being dragged away by an enthusiastic Bradford. The boy was eager to show him what he learned from Alfred.

"I do not have much of a choice, do I?" Legolas asked dryly.

"Oh," Bradford said, smile fading. "If you are busy, then I will..."

"Nonsense!" Legolas said. "Tell me, then. How went your day?"

When he came back to the Main Hall, he found it empty. He searched to find any of his friends, and he found Éothain and Faramir first.

Legolas came to where Éothain and Faramir were standing, chatting amiably.

"Where in the world is Cerdric?" Legolas asked irritably.

"You remember him now?" Éothain asked, amused.

"I forgot in all the excitement." Legolas replied. "Where is he?"

"He sent word with Aragorn that he may be willing to travel in his kingdom's cause but his age will do otherwise. He will only come with the last caravan and in the meantime, he will supervise the caravan's departure." Éothain turned to go.

"Where are you going?" Legolas asked in surprise.

"I need to speak to the incoming patrols. We have finished of almost all of the orcs within our area."

"That is good news."

"I am off."

"Come now, so soon? One would think you are trying to get away from me."

"What makes you think I am not?"

Legolas laughed as he watched Éothain leave.

"You have become quite comfortable here." Faramir observed.

"I have." Legolas answered simply. "Do you know where Aragorn and Éomer are?"

"In the study, I believe. At least that is what I heard from the chatting maids."

"I am going to see what they are up to. Are you coming?"

"Of course," Faramir replied, smiling. "You are really cannot leave those two alone."

The two walked together, conversing along the way. They were nearing the study when they heard raised voices.

Legolas and Faramir glanced at each other and quickened their steps. Reaching the study door, Legolas burst it open to reveal Aragorn and Éomer in a heated argument. Judging from their stances, looks and words, both of them were furious.

"That is enough." Legolas said firmly. "Éomer, sit down."

"You should as well, Sire." Faramir added to Aragorn. The Gondorian King complied, his lips pressed tightly in his anger.

Éomer still stood, his hands in fists, looking mutinous.

"Perhaps I had not been clearly." Legolas said, glancing at him. "Sit down." The words were now an order. Legolas reached out and pressed his hand firmly on Éomer's shoulder, forcing him to sit.

Faramir spotted a jug of water and glasses made of clay. He went over and filled two of them and brought one back for each king. Once they had settled and both calmed down, Faramir spoke.

"Now, what was the argument about?"

"I was only telling him what the caravans held." Aragorn said through clenched teeth. "He," Aragorn pointed at the King, "would not agree."

"That is because you brought too much!" Éomer replied angrily. He would have gotten up had it not for the elf's firm hand that remained on his shoulder no matter how much he shrugged it off. "I had not asked for farming equipment or your men!"

"But you will have them nevertheless!" Aragorn leaned forward. Faramir stepped forward as well, just in case.

"I refuse them, Aragorn! I told you before that I only need the grain."

"Of course! The farming equipment is a gift and I will take back my men when you have no need of them."

"I have no need of them now!"

"You know as well as I that homes are needed to be rebuilt and the grain to be sown. Come, let us help you."

"Aragorn, there is no need of help. Rohan can stand on its own!"

"And it is doing a good job at it." Aragorn growled, his patience finally gone. "How many refugees do you have in here? Two, maybe three hundred? It will quite fine in Winter."

At that, Éomer slowly started to get up from his seat. Legolas roughly pushed him back down.

"That is enough." Legolas repeated. "You two are done speaking."

"Éomer," Faramir said quietly. "Gondor only means to help."

"I will not accept charity from other kingdoms."

There was a moment of silence.

"It was not charity." Faramir finally replied. "You forget that my wife is your sister and as such I am duty-bound to help you."

Realizing the Steward's tactics, Aragorn also spoke, "And as a payment of your help in Pelennor fields, we offer our help where we can."

"There is no need of payment." Éomer said bitterly. "We paid it in full, and in blood."

"And would you rather the families of the fallen starve or die of cold in winter?" Aragorn asked.

Éomer fell silent. It was true, he could not hope to do it all himself and with only his éoreds. He glanced at Legolas, who nodded silently.

"It is the only way." Legolas replied.

"I have no way to pay for it." Éomer finally spoke. It shamed him; it shamed him to no end that he could not provide for his people.

Aragorn spread his hands.

"There is no need to pay for it. I give the equipment and my men freely. We have our debt to settle with Rohan. Did I not say Gondor will help where it can?"

"I-" Éomer started to say.

"Come, come, Éomer!" Aragorn said. "When will you learn to accept help without a fuss? First Legolas, then my aid-"

"Legolas was forced upon me!" Éomer snapped. There was a moment of silence.

"A poor choice of words," Legolas remarked mildly. For a moment, Éomer was stunned and then burst out laughing. The others joined him.

"Forgive me," Éomer said, trying to sober. "I meant that his aid was forced upon me."

"Still a poor choice of words," Aragorn remarked. Faramir only shook his head; he had warmed with the elf, though he knew it will still be a while to get used to Legolas' jests.

"Now that we have sorted out our differences," Legolas said calmly. "Tell me, what of the grain. We have it with us now. We need to distribute it."

"Very well, then." Éomer said and looked expectantly at Legolas. it was a while before the elf realized it.

"What?" Legolas asked, laughing. "Do not look at me! I know not one thing about it!"

"What!"

"I am an elf from Mirkwood-"

"Eryn Lasgelen." Aragorn corrected.

"Same forest, different names," Legolas said irritably, glaring at Aragorn. "And we are still the same. Thus, we care not for grain and farmlands. We do not till the soil. I have no knowledge of this."

Éomer looked at both Aragorn and Faramir.

"I was a Ranger." Aragorn said apologetically. "I spent my time in the Wild."

"Do not look at me." Faramir said immediately as three pairs of eyes rested on him. "I do not know either."

"Then who does?" Éomer asked.

"My cousin," Faramir replied, smiling. "But I have yet to apologize to her."

"Then do so, my man!" Éomer said, pointing at the door. "Daylight is wasting."

"She will kick me in the shins." Faramir replied.

"I hope she does," Éomer remarked. "Now go!"

It had been half an hour after Faramir left when he returned, this time with Lothíriel. She was wearing a white dress, trimmed with blue ribbons and short, wide sleeves. Her hair was in a loose bun, the strands coming out of it indicating she had been assisting Lady Brithwyn. Faramir was wincing every time he took a step, which indicated that Lothíriel took her vengeance the same way he had predicted. The Lady of Dol Amroth, however, gave no indication of such. She stood proudly with her head held high, her hands clasped in one another. She curtsied once to her liege-lord before turning to Éomer.

"Your Majesty," Lothíriel said smoothly. "I really must apologize for inappropriate behavior when we were first introduced. I had been misinformed." She shot a glare towards her cousin, who immediately stepped back to avoid retaliation.

Éomer raised a brow. "Inappropriate" and "Misinformed" were understatements.

"Apology accepted," Éomer replied, matching her tone. "Please sit. We have things to discuss."

Legolas realized for the first time in horror that they will be discussing things that will not interest him at all.

"I believe I am not needed here." Legolas said hurriedly. He escaped out of the door before anyone could reply. Behind him he could hear Faramir make an excuse. Soon the two stood side-by-side out of the door.

"Let us go quickly before they call us back in." Faramir said, his steps fast. Legolas matched is pace easily, but looked at him in bemusement.

"What is it?" Faramir asked, noting the look.

"I really must revise my thoughts on you, Lord Faramir." Legolas said at last. "You are not what I expected."

Faramir smiled and decided not to reply.

Back at the study, Éomer glanced at the speaking lady beside him and wondered if the two left him here on purpose. The Rohirric grimaced and studiously ignored Aragorn's smirks.

oOo

Legolas and Dorián watched the men ready the first two wagons that were leaving to distribute the grain. The éored escorting the wagons were making the final adjustments. Among them were some Gondorian men, who would help in the heavy lifting and what repairs were needed to take place.

"This is a big step," Dorián murmured to Legolas.

"Indeed, it is."

The men shifted, allowing the elves to take a glimpse of Lothíriel and her ladies-in-waiting checking on the goods in the wagons.

"I hear she had supplied the armies of Men at the fields of Cormellen after the War." Dorián said.

"She had," Legolas replied. "I had met her there first."

Dorián nodded his head and then nudged Legolas. The Prince looked at him and Dorián nodded his head in one direction.

"Look," he said. "The outlaws are joining this leaving party."

Legolas looked. The outlaws walked freely, unbound but still under suspicion. Éomer had told them that they will help in the rebuilding and the sowing of the grains, and until then they could not bear weapons or enter any trade till he has deemed them fit. They were still wary, as if they felt it was a trick. Their leader, whose name Legolas had found out to be Aiden, glanced their way. He watched them for a while, glanced at Dorián and recognized him. He then made his way towards them.

He bowed his head towards Dorián.

"I know you." Aiden said, looking at the spy. "You were the intruder who came upon our gathering."

"Aye," Dorián responded gravely. He stared back into the man's eyes.

"Forgive me," Aiden said, not breaking the eye contact. "For setting my men upon you. I cannot explain myself truly, but the times seemed dark to us and we were desperate."

"You are forgiven." Dorián said evenly. "I understand what you mean."

"You have suffered much," Legolas said gently.

"My wife died of an illness that could have been curable had we had the healers." Aiden said bitterly. "And my village people died out of starvation. Rebuilding will not bring them back."

"But it will preserve the lives to come." Legolas countered. But Dorián looked at the man coldly.

"You must let go of your grief." Dorián said sharply, "else it will destroy your spirit till there is nothing left but a husk of your personality. Do not go looking for something to hate or someone to blame! This is your moment, so take it!"

Aiden looked taken aback by the elf's rebuff. But his eyes cleared from what grief was left and was replaced with grim determination.

"Aye, aye, that is what I will do. It is a pleasure though," he said bowing to the elves again. "It is wonderous indeed to see the Firstborn."

The man said his farewell and left without a backward glance.

"_Was it not too harsh?" _Legolas spoke softly in their own tongue.

"_It was not," _Dorián said. _"They have seen the kindness and the sympathy for their past hardships. But now, Rohan does not need sympathy, it needs hard-working, willing men." _Legolas considered his friend's words.

"_I see." _Legolas conceded.

And so the gates opened, and a shout went up among the éored. The wagons slowly moved, and the first supply was on its way.

Rohan was rebuilding itself.

**~S~**

_Author's Note:_

_I forgot to update._

_For some reason, I thought I had already updated like only two days ago. It wasn't until I got some recent reviews that I thought to myself, "How long has it been, anyway?" _

_Well, I am in no laughing mood 'cuz I had been trying to update for the last eight hours. If you are reading this, it means I have been successful._

_A lot of you commented that the decision of the outlaws was a good one, for which I am really relieved. Thanks. :)_

_So here are a few things that I would like to say for this chapter:_

_A lot of my readers commented in the beginning of the story (when we were roughly on chapter 5), that the story should focus more on friendship and support than on materialistic needs like money and supples etc. I would like to comment on it now._

_First thing, the story was picking up the pace and the characters were still being developed (as I had OCs like the elves and Winflead). Also, I was letting time take its role as well. Secondly, I understand that we should have friendship and all, but the reality is, "You have to work if you have to get somewhere in life". That is the ground reality. I wanted to keep this as realistic as possible. You do not simply "POOF!" become friends, "POOF!" become brothers. It takes time. So I hope that now you guys can feel the way the story is bending towards all the friendship and stuff you guys had been asking about._

**_One of the reviews asked that_**_ how long the time has passed. For my sanity, I am going to tell you guys according to the modern years and not according to the book. Legolas roughly came to Rohan somewhere at the end of March. Two and a half months had passed since then up till Chapter 21 (I think). The month going on is somewhere at the end of July. _**The story timeline will only take place in one year just before the beginning of winter.**

**_Important:_** _There will be time skips ahead, after this chapter._

_Replies to reviews:_

_Guest (1):_

_Haha, I have to thank you, though. It was your review that reminded me I had to update. If you hadn't been insistent, I wouldn't have known how long it had been._

_Guest (2):_

_Thanks, I am glad you enjoyed it. :P_

_aronoiiel:_

_Haha, that is that second reviewer commenting on Lothiriel, so I am glad that she turned out okay. You probably would have noticed that I am really weak when it comes to pinning down the character's personality. Poor Legolas! Getting beaten up like that. As for Faramir, I think he has that side where he becomes thoughtful and wise as in the books, though I always felt that he was also 'family-oriented' as well. Lothiriel is like a sister, I guess. Faramir never had a sister. :D_

_Jasper6509:_

_Truth be told, I would have loved to rat out to Lady Brithwyn as well! She truly is a formidable character! :D _

_Eldariel:_

_Actually, the idea of Lothiriel not being compared with Arwen was that I saw lots and lots of ffn comparing her with... her. xD_

_But seriously, that was starting to get on my nerves, so I thought "Why not." :D_

_I honestly do not know which one is the better archer. I am thinking Aragorn has the upper hand, though I doubt Faramir is incompetent. :P_

_whydoineedapenname:_

_wreak havoc... my thoughts exactly! :D :D_

_Ilovevollyball:_

_You can drop as many hints as you like, I am not telling you yet. :P_

_Actually, P.U.S. does not bother me much, (although it is really gross). It certainly makes me laugh!_

_Poor Eomer! He was only defending himself! :D You know, I think Lady Brithwyn is really maternal, don't you? :D_

_Haha, coffee does that to me, unfortunately. My sister regrets it every time I have one! (I do not sleep if I do)._

_brankel1:_

_Haha, thanks. I am glad those two parts turned out ok. :D_

_Sandy-wmd:_

_Thank you! Somebody finally commented on the training session! I spent a lot of time thinking that one out! :D_

_emi:_

_No, you are not demanding. :D_

_I actually did try to underline it, but for some reason it was not working when you see it on the actual web. In the drafts, it is underlined. I have no idea why that is happening. Any thoughts of an alternative?_

_Legolas is slightly modest in his own achievements (I think). What he could not do or could not handle is something that he feels incapable of doing. However, in other people's point of views, they all notice his silent air of command and his deep insight and knowledge (accompanied with mischief! :D)_

_I am not speaking about the other stuff you are speaking off. I might give away hints. :P (Sorry, but frankly, you should not have told me that I have the tendency of leaving hints!)_

_And I am glad Eomer is turning out ok. :D_

_ .77:_

_Haha, thanks. :)_


	33. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

A week later, they found themselves at Edoras.

"Oh, Lady Éowyn!" Éothain bellowed cheerfully, holding Faramir in a death grip. The Steward's face was pale, and he winced every time Éothain jostled him hard from where he held him. "Oh, Lady Éowyn! We brought you a present!"

Faramir threw a desperate, pleading look behind at Éomer, who was following them slowly. The King had a ridiculous grin on his face.

"I am not helping you." Éomer replied to the Steward's silent request. "You had purposely thrown me together with your cousin throughout our travel here. I will enjoy myself most fully."

"Such a wonderful brother-in-law…" Faramir trailed off with a quiet gasp as the burly Rider tightened his grip around his forearm.

"Little flower!" Éomer shouted as they entered the corridor leading to Éowyn's rooms. "I brought a pet!"

It was truly a sight to behold. The Steward of Gondor was being dragged by a Rohir, with the King of Rohan following close behind. Both of them were bellowing on the top of their voices. Behind them followed a more quiet pair of the Gondorian King and the Elven Prince.

"This is truly entertaining." Aragorn said grinning. He had to speak directly in Legolas' ear to make himself heard over the two men's shouting.

"Indeed, it is. Although, I never realized that our return would be so boisterous."

"Come, we must hurry. I want to see Éowyn's reaction!"

"My Lady Éowyn!" Éothain shouted again, jovially thumping the Steward so hard on his back that the poor man nearly fell forward.

"Éothain, please…" Faramir said weakly. Éomer walked past him, smirking as he did so. He placed a hand on Éowyn's door and pushed it open.

"Little flower, see what we have brought you!"

Aragorn and Legolas hurried to watch the commotion.

It turned out to be one of those days when poor Éowyn was confined to the bed. She barely moved as the men entered, her expression clearly indicating the discomfort she was in. she turned her head slightly, taking in the sight of a grinning Éothain and equally amused Éomer. There was a black-haired man firmly wedged in between them, who looked a little worse for wear from his travel and whatever his brother and friend had done to him. It was a while before her sleepy mind registered that the black-haired man was none other than her husband.

When she did, she gave a loud shriek and launched off the bed as fast as her condition could allow. Faramir stumbled backwards in surprise as he found himself holding his wife.

"I do not think she has noticed you, Aragorn." Éomer said, grinning.

"I doubt she would after meeting her husband." Aragorn said laughing when he noticed that they were completely ignored by the reunited husband and wife. "Come! Let us give them a little privacy."

When they returned to the Main Hall, they found themselves face-to-face with Lady Lothíriel. The Lady of Dol Amroth had not noticed them, as she was conversing with Lady Winflead.

"I have my sword to sharpen." Éothain said, disappearing immediately.

"I have my horse to look after." Legolas said, walking away before anyone to comment.

"I will come with you." Aragorn said hurriedly.

Éomer glared at the retreating figures and made to follow them. They will not succeed this time! He refused to put up with such-

"Éomer King?" He heard Lothíriel ask him.

Although, he had to admit, he did not mind being left behind.

oOo

Two days later, the elven party also arrived to Edoras.

"We are back!" Nimon shouted at the top of his lungs as he entered the Golden Hall, the other elves following close behind. If he heard Lady Winflead's weary sigh, he did not indicate it.

"I noticed, my lords." Winflead said dryly. "Please do not bellow. I have enough to deal with, especially now that Captain Éothain is back."

"It is good to see you doing well, my lady." Nimon said, winking and bowing to her. Winflead merely raised a brow and walked away, unimpressed.

"_She has not changed." _Nimon muttered.

"_We have only been gone for two weeks," _Caldor said, sounding amused. _"What did you expect? Ah, Frostfeather, Silverclaw! It is good to see you two!"_

The hawk manager smiled as one hawk flew to perch on his shoulder and the other on his arm guard. He walked away absently, chatting with the two hawks as he did so.

Fion came and unclasped his cloak, calling out, _"I will be in our rooms if anyone has a need of me."_

"_I need a wash," _Bregon muttered. Other elves murmured an assent and followed him.

"_Where is Legolas and Dorián?" _Callon could be heard asking. _"Those two should have been here to greet us, at the very least. I am going to go find them."_

Soon, Nimon found himself entirely alone in the Main Hall, with saddlebags clustered around him.

"_I suppose I am the one taking my saddlebags to our rooms?" _He asked sardonically in the empty hall.

oOo

Once the elves made themselves presentable, they met the two Kings and the Steward along with Legolas and Dorián at supper. The elves and the Rohirrim met warmly, their differences meaningless after spending so much time together. Faramir they liked instantly, the quiet demeanor of the man made them respect him. As for Lothíriel, the elves conducted themselves admirably, though there was a glint in their eyes. Dorián had wasted no time in telling the elves of Éomer's first meeting with the Lady of Dol Amroth. They had found her as fascinating as Legolas and Dorián had. In the beginning, they were a little wary, but as the feast progressed and they spoke to her more often, they soon realized they liked her as much as they liked Faramir.

The Ithilien Rangers had accompanied Faramir to Edoras, their task in Rohan being entirely different. It led to much laughter and warm, jovial greetings between the Elven Rangers and the Ithilien Rangers, showing just how well they went along. The feast then became bright and merry. The Rohirrim came forward to greet the Steward, finally conversing personally with the husband of their beloved Lady. It was a great feat, even though the sight of the Hall was strange with elves, Gondorians and the Rohirrim.

When the feast ended, and the people went on to their individual ways, the elves produced the documents holding the information of the kingdom and came forward to where Éomer was seated.

Fion held up the rolled map in his hand that was undoubtedly marked according to which towns needed his attention. Bregon held up a large stack of papers, assumedly reports.

"What do you say?" Legolas prodded.

"My sanity is leaving me." Éomer responded wearily. He knew work when he saw one.

"That is good enough, I guess." Fion replied, handing over his burden to the King.

With a sigh, Éomer could tell he was going to spend a lot of time in his Study.

"I should be thankful," Éomer said, looking up. "But right now, I just feel nauseous at the work cut out for me."

"Serves you right, frankly," Faramir said dryly. "If you had not been too deep in your cup for all this time, you wouldn't have needed to go through so many reports."

"Faramir, you are going to join me."

"I cannot. I-"

"An excellent idea," Aragorn interrupted. Faramir threw him an alarmed look. "Do not look at me like that, Faramir. You have been avoiding all the councils we had in Aldburg. This is a good time as any to participate. Besides, you should make yourself useful now that you will stay here with your wife."

"Aye, Faramir," Éomer said, grinning. "Make yourself useful."

Faramir glanced at the young King, his expression unreadable.

oOo

Faramir retaliated in the most entertaining fashion. Back at Aldburg and during their travel, he had been quite discrete when he forced Éomer and Lothíriel together and such attempts were scarce and far in between. But after Éomer's regular (and succeeding attempts) to get Faramir work with him in his study, the Steward moved with much more precision.

Once, he requested a ride with Éomer and suggested bringing Lothíriel along. As a host, Éomer could not refuse. Then in the morning, just before the ride, Faramir withdrew and left the two for the ride. Another time, he had 'accidently' locked the two in the same room. Admittedly, Lady Winflead was there also, but it was still amusing. Another time, he had brought up the topic of dancing and soon Éomer found himself dancing with Lothíriel that night.

"What a player!" Legolas exclaimed after yet another one of Faramir's antics succeeded.

"This is nothing." Aragorn said laughing. "You should see him at court. The man weaves through a crowd like an artist making a masterpiece."

The reason why Faramir's antics succeeded was probably because he did with such elegance and such poise that he was able to escape without arousing much suspicion. By the time it worked against his favor, he was safe from any harm.

Lothíriel was not slow either. She had picked up to her cousin's attempts, but while she resembled him in personality, she could not hope to compete against his charm. So she had to bear with it, thought if her heart was honest, she really did not mind.

In spite of how much Faramir teased and prodded his cousin, he always had a certain amount of softness for her. Often when Lothíriel stomped away in anger after being excessively teased, Faramir would soon trail behind. He would then make amends with her, till the two were laughing and chatting again.

"Silver-tongue, indeed," Aragorn had remarked once, catching the sight of the two cousins sitting on a wooden fence and conversing together.

"And it reminds you of who?" Legolas said invitingly.

"Glorfindel," Aragorn filled in, laughing as he did so.

oOo

Two weeks had passed by in this fashion after their return to Edoras. Those were busy weeks, to the point that none of them had much time to rest or even to think for themselves. Aragorn had told them that the supply caravans would come to Rohan at a difference of one or two weeks between each caravan. True enough, they expected a fast messenger from Aldburg, telling them the second caravan had arrived.

At that time, when things were finally started to settle for Rohan, they finally brought up the subject of the failed murder.

They had been sitting in Éomer's study. It was raining outside, the first storms of the monsoon season slowly taking hold on the kingdom. It was well in time, but the crops were late in planting. The harvest, they knew, would be just as late. Some doubted that if there would be a harvest but such fears were better off not voiced.

Faramir and Aragorn both sat back on their chairs as they listened to Éomer give the full account of what had transpired. Legolas listened half-heartedly, already knowing the full events and watched the scenery out of the open window.

"If I had my way, I would have killed him the moment I had seen him." Éomer said, pacing rapidly across the room in his fury. Legolas kept his silence, and merely watched him.

"It is a good thing you did not." Aragorn said, using all his strength to force Éomer to sit. "This concern I as well, remember."

"And do not forget me." Faramir added.

"Let us go to see this man, then." Aragorn said, giving up on Éomer. "Legolas, close the window, for pity's sake. You are letting the water in.

"You say he has not talked?" Faramir asked in confirmation.

"Aye," Legolas replied, shutting the window. "He only asked for you once and that was when neither I nor Éomer was present."

"Hm," Faramir said thoughtfully. "This will make an interesting case."

When the weather had relented a little till there was only a drizzle, they left for the prison. Once reaching there, Éomer led them to where the prisoner was kept.

"I would advise you all to keep a tight rein to your tempers," Faramir said, who was the most even-headed of them all. "Particularly you, Éomer. We do not know who we are dealing wi- good grief!" Faramir's cry echoed in the corridor as he took a glimpse of the prisoner. The prisoner's head jerked up as if he recognized he voice but before he turned his head to see them, Faramir grabbed the others and shoved them out of the corridor before following them as well.

"Faramir," Aragorn said in surprise, feeling his back contact against the hard wall. "What in Middle-Earth!"

But one look of the Steward's face silenced him. Faramir looked ghastly pale, shocked and thoroughly shaken.

"You know that man." Aragorn realized.

"Aye, one of my own," Faramir said, laughing shakily. "He is one of my rangers. At least, I think it was he… but if not… I am losing my mind."

"Then let us go and see if it is he." Aragorn said.

"I will. But there is one request." Faramir said. Then he turned his head towards Legolas. "I ask simply that you do not take part while we interrogate the man and his judgment. If this man is truly the one I think, then I do not wish anyone other than the people concerned to know about him. He... He was a man I once held great respect for and had great respect for me as well."

"Very well," Legolas said, inclining his head. "But I want an explanation for it."

"I will give one." Faramir promised, regaining his old composure. Legolas nodded his head once and left.

oOo

Legolas spent the next four hours with the elves. They joined the Ithilien Rangers in a friendly contest of bows, despite the fact that it was raining lightly. It was an enjoyable affair, more so as Bradford was there as well. A joke came out of their contest, as the elves slowly picked up speed to the point that their hands moved faster than the eye. The Ithilien Rangers started to falter, but they took it honorabl and even jested. The odds were evened when Bradford helped the Ithilien Rangers load and reload their bows by passing them arrows.

"Unfair, unfair!" The elves cried, laughing when they noticed. "We have no help and you have one!"

"Not so," the Rangers cried back, patting the boy on the shoulder. "He is a good lad and your hands move too fast for us to follow."

That was when a messenger came from Meduseld. Éome had asked for them. The prisoner was to be executed.

It was a grim way to end the day but it needed to be done. So when the body was buried and the people left, Faramir was the only left at the grave. The Steward's head was lowered, as if in silent grief.

Legolas came to stand beside him and waited.

"His name was Aegnor." Faramir said quietly. "He came from Lebinin. His people simple, humble folk. His father used to take odd jobs for the farmers at the fruit orchids." The Steward sighed as he gazed at the freshly filled earth. "He was a good man, and one of the jolly ones I had known. His family was so proud when he became a Ranger."

"What happened?" Legolas asked.

"War tore him apart." Faramir answered. "His wife was with child and visiting some friends at a town near the coastline. The corsiars came. They killed who came in their path, destroyed what buildings they saw. He was in my company those days. I took them to the coastline to help the survivors… against my father's wishes. But I had to. He would have gone without me if I had not, and I feared for his life."

"We found his wife dead among the ruins along with other corpses. The pirates left none alive. He changed after that." Faramir ran a hand over his face. "He became foolish and reckless. He threw himself into one battle after another, to the point that he endangered himself and my men. A time finally came that I took him aside and gave him a firm reprimand that I should have softened. But my anger over his disregard and my concern over his recklessness took the better of me. One time, he was gravely wounded and begged me to either leave him behind or kill him. I did neither and brought him to the healers. He blamed me for not letting him find peace."

"Was it why he attacked Éowyn?"

"It may seem so." Faramir said quietly. "But I think he knew that the punishment for it would likely be death and he was desperate, after all. It saddens me, though. I had not wanted it for him. He was intelligent, and quite a valuable asset for our order. He held me in high regard."

"It is hard to think he did so, considering it was your wife that he tried to knife."

Faramir placed his hand on the elf's shoulder. When his eyes met the elf's, Legolas could see pity and compassion in them.

"But he did, can you not see? We train our men well. If he wanted to kill her, he would have gone for it. But he purposely let his knife slip. He already knew it all. Had he truly wanted to kill her and leave undetected, he would have chosen the cover of the night to do so. And none would have guessed until it was too late."

"Then why did you not say anything?" Legolas said, alarmed.

"I did." Faramir said, smiling sadly. "But Aegnor would not let me do so. Like I said, he was desperate. It saddens me, indeed, to see good men wish for death so."

Legolas remained quiet. Faramir glanced at him.

"You do not approve of what has transpired." Faramir said at last.

"Who ever does?" Legolas asked in return. "War can leave strange stories behind for those who survive. It is not the first time I heard a man give in to despair, and I doubt it will be my last. I hope, though, that he may find some peace."

"What I hope, is that we find some as well." Faramir replied, turning to walk away. Legolas followed his suit. "The living has a while to go yet."

And here, another chapter of their lives was closed.

**~S~**

_Author's Note:_

_Ugh, I have too much to do and too little time. So if there are any typos in the author's note, forgive me (English is not my native language and it is too early to think in it). _

_The would-be murderer's background story is something I had in my mind for while. Rohan had materialistic losses, but i always thought that Gondor had more of an emotional one. If their Steward Denethor felt despair and hopelessness, then the people most probably had too._

_If you guys can give constructive contrit for this chapter, I would HIGHLY appreciate it. I am not good when it comes to time skips. If it is too hurried, please PLEASE tell me. (And tell me if it is not)._

_Also, I think we have only one or three more storylines to address before I call it the end. Six or seven more chapters, perhaps?_

_It feels odd, though. I can't believe it is ending._

_I really gotta go. Sorry for the short author's note and I won't be able to reply the reviews. I am so sorry._

_Now I really gotta go (and not in that sense you guys.) -.-_


	34. Chapter 34

_Err, anyone still reading this?_

**~S~**

Chapter 33

_After the defeat of Sauron,_

_Mirkwood._

_The air smelled stale. The stench of death and rotten flesh was about him. the chains on his wrists and arms were heavy, bound to the ground below him as he curled into himself. He never cried out in pain, purposely keeping his mouth clamped shut so that his torturers found no happiness in his pain._

_He did not know how long it was since he came to the prisons, and it seemed to be an eternity. Outside, the orcs quarreled, making him grimace. He wanted to shrink away or shift from the noise but doing so required the energy he did not have._

_And amongst the sounds of harsh cries, he heard the songs in fair voices…_

oOo

It was the middle of the night when Legolas found Dorián in the Kitchens, staring listlessly into a steaming cup of tea in front of him.

"_Bad memories plaguing you again?" _Legolas asked, taking a seat in front of him.

"_How was it obvious?" _Dorián asked, raising his eyes to meet his friend's.

"_I know you well enough." _Legolas retorted. _"I am supposed to know." _Then the prince softened and said, _"Where were you this time? In the caves of the Misty Mountains? The prisons of Lake-Town or the caravan of the outlaws?"_

"_The dungeons of Dol Guldur," _Dorián replied. He reached forward in a convulsive movement to take the cup and drained its contents in one move. Legolas grimaced. The tea must be very hot, though Dorián did not indicate it.

"_Ah," _Legolas said, not knowing what else to reply.

Every time, Dorián had been rescued from Dol Guldur, he never spoke of it. Thranduil, Fion and not even Legolas knew what Dorián had witnessed inside those dungeons, though the elf's scars spoke many tales. Dorián still kept his jolly mood every time he came back to the Halls. Once or twice, Fion, Legolas, Thranduil and even Dorián's family tried to broach the subject but Dorián curtly told them to leave him be.

"_Some things are better off not spoken off." _He had said, and after that, they did not approach him.

"_Do you wish to speak of it?" _Legolas asked, reaching over the table with his hand. He did not touch his age-old friend, instead kept his palm wide open and inviting. Dorián did not take it and sighed.

"_I told you before and I will tell you again. Nay, I will not."_

Legolas became quiet and slowly retreated his hand. Dorián stopped him by grabbing it.

"_Someday I will." _Dorián said, smiling sadly. _"But not now. The world is bright and merry and I wish to enjoy it while I still could. The scars will remain and the memories will haunt me, but the morning is always as beautiful as I remember it to be, my friend. Perhaps when I feel the longing for the Sea, I will tell you then."_

"_I may not be able to heal you then, friend." _Legolas warned, knowing his own Sea-longing was strong.

"_I would not need you to." _Dorián responded, patting his wrist. _"I just need you to listen."_

The two friends stayed like this, their hands connected as they mulled over their thoughts. They had been friends from the cradle, as King Thranduil had constantly joked. And since that time, they had witnessed much together. Their childhood was carefree and loving, their adulthood full of new experience and curiosity, until they finally accepted the graver duties that made them who they were now. And yet their friendship did not lose its strength, but became even stronger as the years passed them by.

"_You know I will follow you anywhere." _Dorián said. _"You just need to say the word and I will follow you."_

As Fion was Thranduil's loyal friend and right hand, Dorián was the same for Legolas. They worked well together and not more could be said about it.

"_I know." _Legolas said at last, tightening his grip.

"_Fion will follow you too. You are like a son to him-"_

"_We both are."_

"_And that is why he will follow us. King Thranduil understands this."_

"_Do you trust me?"_

"_With my life and that of my family's."_

"_Then tell me what happened at Dol Guldur. And not just the recent capture, of all the six captures."_

Dorián closed his eyes and turned his head away. In the lantern light, Legolas could see the edge of a silver scar just peeking out from Dorián's collar where it was on his neck.

"_Soon," _Dorián promised, opening his eyes. _"But not now. It is too near to me yet."_

"_Fine," _Legolas said, freeing his hand from Dorián's grip. _"But you need this healing, Dorián."_

"_You will not let go of this subject, are you?"_

"_Why else are friends made for?"_

oOo

The next day, Legolas and Éomer both watched Faramir enter the door leading to the Kitchens in interest.

"How many chances are there that she will throw him out?" Legolas asked finally.

"I think there are many."

"You are doing my part of the paperwork if she does not."

"You will do all of my paperwork if she does."

Just then, the door opened violently and the Steward of Gondor stumbled out. The door swung back shut. Legolas crossed his arms as Éomer started laughing.

"I hate it when you are right." The elf muttered. Faramir straightened and then attempted to smooth down his clothes and hair.

"What did you say to her?" Éomer asked as the man approached him.

"I merely asked if she needed to lie down for a rest." Faramir replied.

"You should have known that is not something any woman wants to hear."

"I had forgotten." Faramir admitted. Legolas only smiled.

Éowyn had become quite temperate, her moods swinging from happiness to depression and then to anger. Most of them had taken the brunt of her words, though none of them could blame her. She was with child, of course and the other reason for her moods was the fact that she felt useless by being bedridden. The women of Meduseld had finally allowed her some control in the household chores where she guided the Kitchens while seated in a corner, or passing the time by helping the women sew. When she was unable to do anything of the sort, she stayed in her rooms with Faramir for company and if he was not available, then one of the elves.

"Is there anyone who has not yet taken her words?" Faramir asked, crossing his arms as he stared at the closed doors of the Kitchens.

"Aye," Legolas replied. "Noron is the only one, it seems, who is able to keep to her good side in all of her moods."

Noron was the shyest elf in Legolas' company. He spoke very little and his voice was soft and gentle. He rarely ever got angry, preferring to stay away from incidents that would make him do so. It was ironic, really, for his name meant 'fire' and yet he showed very little spirit. But it did not mean that he was incapable as a Ranger. Noron was as good a fighter as any of the other elves. He had developed a quiet sort of friendship with Lady Éowyn from the first day they had met.

"Lucky elf," Éomer remarked. "Not even Éowyn's brother and husband survived against her."

"Well, if you two could stop commenting about her size and her failing stamina, then she would have tolerated you both more."

"I dare you to say that to her."

"Immortal I may be, but I think a frying pan to the head could kill as well if thrown with enough strength. And your sister has a good arm."

oOo

Teasing Lothíriel and Éomer still continued, wedged in the days as the weather slowly moved from colder, to humid and then warm again. The constant tricks on the pair were quiet refreshing, especially when there was nothing to do but read reports on rebuilding and crops.

One time at night, though, Aragorn finally decided to come to Lothíriel's aid.

"Faramir, that is enough." Aragorn said sternly, his frown removing all attention from his laughing eyes.

Faramir grinned and took bite of his meat.

"I do not know what you are talking about, Sire."

"You know perfectly well what I am talking about! Victimizing your poor cousin-"

"She is hardly a victim, Sire and well you know it, bluntly speaking."

"Aragorn," The Gondorian King corrected. "My name is Aragorn. You are as bad as that boy Bradford. Is he not, Legolas?" He added to the elf who was quietly eating beside them.

"I intend to stay out of domestic issues." Legolas replied, focusing on his food. "Although, I have to admit that the joke does seem a little stretched now that Lady Lothíriel is braving through your antics, Faramir."

"She is not a victim." Faramir repeated. "She is a player herself."

Legolas and Aragorn both glanced at the said lady. Faramir had successfully pulled her to Éomer and in a short while the Rohirric King found himself dancing with her again. The elf and man both took in her demure visage, complete with lowered eyelashes and her submissively lowered shoulders.

"She does not seem a player to me." Legolas said at last.

Just then- their eyes missed it- but Lothíriel somehow maneuvered her foot in between Éomer's feet and the King stumbled to the floor.

"Oh, dear me!" Lothíriel shrieked loudly, making the minstrels stop and the people to look over. "I am so sorry! I apologize, Sire. How truly clumsy of me! Oh! Oh! Somebody please help!"

Legolas' brow furrowed as Lothíriel continued to babble. It was quite unlike her, because she was quite sensible and her voice was too high-pitched and shrill at the moment. She was causing too big a fuss over it. Éothain hurried over just as some men helped the King to stand. Éomer was straightening his clothes in bemusement as Lothíriel apologized over and over. Éomer finally raised his hand to stem the flow of apologies and self-reprimands.

"It is quite alright, my lady." Éomer said dryly. "All limbs are intact after all."

"Oh, you are so kind-"

But when Éomer turned away and the minstrels resumed the music, Legolas caught her satisfied smirk.

Legolas' jaw dropped.

Faramir leaned forward and turned his head to check Legolas' expression. He laughed at his shock.

"There is a reason why they say she resembles me, Legolas." Faramir said, chuckling as he leaned back on his chair. Éomer made his way to them, grinning.

"You saw what she did?" Éomer asked.

"Aye, we did." Aragorn replied. "I do not think she enjoys your company, Éomer. Give her up as a lost cause."

"I do not think she had much against my company as she has against the one pushing her into it." Éomer responded. Then he glanced towards Faramir. "By the way, Faramir, I do not think she is very happy."

"Nay, I do not think she really is." Faramir said, noting his cousin's murderous expression she kept throwing his way as she danced with a Rider.

"Neither am I." Éomer added. "You and I are going to the practicing fields tomorrow."

"Careful; remember what happened in Aldburg."

"Lady Brithwyn is not here." Éomer retorted. Then turning, he addressed Legolas. "Which reminds me; you and I also have some unresolved matters similar to the one I currently have with Faramir."

Legolas looked up in confusion. "Unresolved matters? What unresolved matters?"

"You will see." Came the cryptic reply. Before Legolas could ask, Éomer had already moved on to the other tables, greeting his people as they enjoyed their meal. "What did he mean by unresolved matters?" Legolas asked Aragorn.

"Why ask me? You should know. After all, you were the one here."

Legolas searched his mind but found nothing that could hint such. Sighing, he gave up. Éomer had planned something for him anyway. He will find out soon enough.

Legolas searched the Hall and noticed his escort was missing.

"I seem to have misplaced my escort."

"You always misplace things." Aragorn retorted. "For example, your memory."

"When are you leaving again?" Legolas asked, getting up from his seat. Aragorn and Faramir soon followed.

"I will be out of your fine hair soon enough, elf." Aragorn replied, grinning. "And then you will miss my company."

"You 'think' I will miss your company."

"Must we fight?" Faramir interrupted. "I have a fair idea where your escort is, Master Elf-"

"Legolas. My name is Legolas. Aye, my father named me. It is not elf. Forgive me, but you are as bad as Bradford."

"Who is doing well, I assure you. Now, what I was saying, Legolas, was that I believe your escort would likely be entertaining my wife."

"And you think that because-"

"It is something your escort is likely to do." Aragorn finished.

"I hate escorts." Legolas muttered.

They reached Éowyn's rooms, only to hear loud clapping and music coming from it. Legolas, Aragorn and Faramir exchanged worried glances and then raced to open the door.

As the door opened, they came to an astonishing sight.

The sitting room of Éowyn's chambers was quite large, especially if the furniture was pushed back to the walls, and that was had precisely happened to the room. The floor was laden with rugs as the winds became colder from the monsoon rainstorms.

Sitting at one corner were women playing the flute and the lute. And in the middle of the room, there were elves and some men dancing with the women to the Rohirric tune.

"What in Arda-" Legolas sputtered, astonished. The elves of Eryn Lasgelen, by nature, were quite lively but Legolas knew that they were only such in familiar surroundings. To see them dance so freely only showed how well they had settled here in Edoras. Aragorn and Faramir both were equally surprised.

Éowyn was reclining on a couch, her head propped up on arm. She smiled as she watched, laughing occasionally as a man or elf made a particularly high leap.

"What in the world are you doing?" Legolas shouted over the noise at Dorián who was dancing close by.

"We are learning how to dance in Rohirric steps." Dorián replied.

"They have lost their minds." Legolas groaned to Aragorn. "Crazy and insane, the lot of them. Prancing about barefoot like the street-children of Lake-town, looking like grinning toys made by the dwarves-oh! What has become of the Rangers of Eryn Lasgelen! They are a shame to their order-"

Just then, Nimon came forward and grabbed Legolas' arm, promptly pulling him into the whirling colors of green, gold and red as the dancers sketched out the steps.

The elves had stumbled more than once, raising loud laughter from everyone. The steps were utterly unfamiliar, for the elves were used to lithe, graceful steps than the stamping and clapping that Rohirric dances demanded. Still, the men were awed by the elves' ease around the floor, quickly maneuvering to keep themselves falling in a disgraceful heap. More than once, though, Fion tried to discretely disappear, but the elves always pulled him back into the group. Fion, it seemed, was well-loved among the Rangers and commanded a great deal of respect. For the first time, the Riders heard the veteran's true laughter as he finally admitted defeat and danced with his comrades.

They had not tired but Éowyn was soon dozing. They stopped the music, and quietly retreating, leaving Faramir to carefully carry his wife to bed.

oOo

During their stay in Edoras, Éomer had gone through every horrible and terrifying visage concerning the harvest.

_What if there is a plague? What if the locusts arrive? What if Gimli does not come in time? What if the harvest fails? What if-_

And more than once, Legolas and Éomer built up a heated argument that went usually led to raised voices. Faramir and Aragorn would then pull them apart. Éomer always stomped off to the stables for a gallop, while Legolas sought refuge with Éowyn (and knowing full well that Fion would not have been so sympathetic).

"He is driving me insane." Legolas confessed to Éowyn when he went to visit her. The lady lay on her bed, resting with her cheek against one hand as she propped herself on her pillows. One hand was on her abdomen. She winced a little now and then, the child's movement clearly giving her discomfort. "He keeps bringing up the most ridiculous notions and the worse part of it is that he is making me fearful as well."

"He always felt his responsibilities." Éowyn said at last. "My brother takes his duties very seriously. If he does something, he wishes to do it in full and without any failure. The thought that there is a chance that his plans can backfire on him frightens him. Sitting in a study with no knowledge of the crops that he had not seen does not help either."

"Are you saying that I should take him to ride to the farming lands?"

"I am saying that there is no more work here in Meduseld for either of you. Your work is out there." She pointed out of the window. "And as much I do not like the fact that my brother will have to ride while I am with my first child and in need of support, I know the duties of the kingdom well. My brother is a man of action. He likes to take his duties in his own hands, not give it to others to do."

"I should not burden you with my problems, especially in your condition-"

"Nonsense! I am not a weakling, and besides these are my brother and my home. They both concern me. Besides, I feel useful when you tell me about the goings-on. Now, stay and tell me how Bradford is doing."

oOo

Éowyn was undoubtedly happier and content now that Faramir was there with her. Unbeknownst to her, the people at Meduseld were happier that Faramir was there for entirely different reasons; they no longer had to face the cutting end of her tongue due to her mood swings.

Unfortunately, not even Faramir was safe.

"What did you do?" Éomer demanded when Faramir was thrown out of the bedroom.

"I only asked if her dress was not too tight." The Steward replied feebly. The elves laughed and shook their head.

"I doubt a lady would like to hear that," Fion remarked, reaching forward to pluck the twirling knife from Dorián's finger, much to the latter's annoyance.

"I noticed." Faramir said dryly. "Perhaps I should go apologize to her, once she is cool enough."

It turned out, though, that Faramir was not the one apologizing. Éowyn knew full well how unpredictable her moods were getting. She asked for forgiveness left and right. Faramir would not even hear of it, Éomer teased her, and the elves waved it off.

"We have children of our own, my lady." Some of them said. "We know full well what it is like with our wives. We are not offended."

The most amusing, however, (and only after the case of Éomer and Lothíriel), was the fact that the young maids had soon realized that all the elves were wed except for Legolas and Dorián. Legolas turned a blind eye wherever such girls were found, though Dorián was not so fortunate.

At first, it baffled him, for he was not used to speaking with women but soon he was comfortable enough to exchange pleasantries.

"_Careful,"_ Legolas warned Dorián as the elves gathered in Dorián's room. They had made it a ritual to tease Dorian every night over the ladies. "_We have already lost Evenstar to a lowly mortal; I would not have losing my friend to it again."_ The elves laughed.

"_I will tell Estel what you have said of him."_ Dorián said dryly, cheeks tinged pink from the teasing. "And then I will tell my lady Arwen. Something tells me that she would not be pleased with the description."

The teasing had continued for a while before Fion thought it enough or the elf would die from the embarrassment. With a curt order and a friendly shove, the veteran had pushed the other elves out, including the prince himself, to sleep in the remaining two rooms

oOo

Finally, Legolas had had enough of Éomer's 'what ifs'. Two more weeks had gone by since the time they had returned to Meduseld. The dwarves should be approaching Rohan. Éomer had already planned to wait for their arrival and welcome them. Legolas, however, suggested that they go on to the farming lands to see how the crops were.

Aragorn decided to go with them.

"It would be well to see Gimli again." He said as they sketched out the plans. "But after that, I plan to return to Gondor. My kingdom needs me and my wife even more so."

After assembling an éored and preparing his escort, they were back in the saddle. Faramir would have gone with them, but Éowyn was not willing to part with him and frankly, nor was he.

"Did you notice something?" Caldor asked as he came to where his comrades were standing. Above them both Silverclaw and Frostfeather were flying, waiting for them to ride.

"What is it?" Callon replied.

"This is the first time since we came to Rohan that we actually riding out with Legolas as his escort."

"I can still leave you here, mind!" Legolas shouted at them.

The elves chuckled.

**~S~**

_Author's Note:_

_I can explain, I swear!_

_My brother was getting married after the last chapter update. So we had parties, guests coming over to stay, you know.. the whole drill. And then we had dinner with the in-laws and etc etc. And I just got time today to post an update. So I am sorry for keeping you guys at loose ends. I hope you haven't given up on me. :P_

_Replies to reviews: (Wow)_

_Ilovevollyball:_

_P.U.S indeed! Made the record, this time I think._

_And thanks for the support. :P_

_Btw, I heard from a little birdie that your sis is reading my stories. How does she like it?_

_brankel1:_

_haha, thanks. :)_

_emi:_

_Hehe, thanks. I was thinking the same thing when I posted the previous chapter. _

_Actually, Aegnor's story is a whole lot complicated and had the scene and all but when my doc got deleted, I was in no mood to think up a conspiracy again, lol. I will post it in the final edited version. So stay tuned. I will sate your curiosity, hopefully._

_aronoiiel:_

_You took the wrong time to comment on my juggling stories, lol. I took a month long break from it all. :P_

_Thank you. But there is a connection in my stories. All my storeis revolve around friendship, though the plotlines are diffferent. :)_

_Well, you are correct, sort of. Aegnor's story was something I had in my mind for a while but I do not know to what extent I am going to write it all. There are chances that after writing the sequel to OTWAB, I might leave ffn for good. So I truly have no idea._

_1monster2:_

_plz and thank you! I will look forward to it. I am very curious to read it. :)_

_And no prob, you were obviously busy. :)_

_Guest:_

_Nah, it can't. Unfortunately. But I do have plans. :P_


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